


Nikolai's grandsons

by lazypieceofass



Series: Yuka and Yoka [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angry Yuri Plisetsky, Child Abuse, Child Yuri Plisetsky, Fluff and Angst, Hockey, Implied Transphobia, Misgendering, Other, POV Nikolai Plisetsky, Protective Nikolai Plisetsky, Protective Siblings, Protective Victor Nikiforov, Running Away, Russian Nicknames, Sassy Nikolai Plisetsky, Supportive Nikolai Plisetsky, Supportive Siblings, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri has a twin, figure skating, only because Yuri hadn't come out yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazypieceofass/pseuds/lazypieceofass
Summary: They were the protagonists of his story, of his life. They had been ever since they were born, taking their first breath, blinking, crying. Living.Yuri and Alexei's childhood, in their grandpa's point of view.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Nikolai Plisetsky & Original Male Character(s), Nikolai Plisetsky & Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov & Nikolai Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov & Original Character(s), Victor Nikiforov & Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri Plisetsky & Original Character(s)
Series: Yuka and Yoka [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101629
Kudos: 22





	1. To be there

It was cold outside, a normal sight, really, given the current hour of the day and the time of the year. The street lights did little to pierce the darkness of the early morning, but neither twins could have cared less, honestly. Sitting together in the passenger seat of their grandpa’s old, small car, they were way too busy messily eating their rye bread and babbling senseless stories to the man driving beside them, to take notice of the world around them, outside the vehicle.

These kinds of mornings weren’t rare. In fact, they were a constant part of the almost daily routine. Their grandpa would pick up both children around five in the morning, and they would spend the rest of the day together. Even how they would kill the time was already planned out, as it was pretty much the same every time.

When the man finally pulled up, the children had finished their quick breakfast, and were more than ready to jump out the car into the completely empty parking lot, which is exactly what they tried to do once their grandpa opened the door. Luckily, the man had some experience in the matter, and managed to lift both of them up before anybody had the chance to trip and fall and get their little pants all wet in a puddle, residual from the previous night’s rain. Smiling at the eagerness of the younger ones, the man walked up to the lit up building, two little, warm hands secured in his own, a big and full, worn out hockey bag hung on his shoulder.

The warmth inside was a welcomed difference from the wet, chilly temperature that offered the streets. As always, the entrance was like abandoned, with nobody behind the administration counter, nobody to help with rented skates, or even nobody to swipe the floors. Only the security lamps were preventing the place from being in complete darkness, along with the street lamps lightened up outside the building. It was too early for anybody to be at work. The man let himself be dragged by the two very impatient children, off to the familiar, welcoming double door.

Behind said doors was a well-known scene. Sure, the building's entrance was quiet, but the place wasn’t completely deserted. Indeed, every regular was well aware of this fact; apart from Saturdays, Viktor Nikiforov would always spend his morning at the rink, from 5 am till he was too hungry to keep skating. And that, all through his off season as a professional skater, from late spring to early fall.

The trio arrived right at the moment the young skater was landing a perfect looking axel, at least, perfect in the untrained eyes of the older man, and like magic for the two toddlers, who made that fact well known by gasping in delight and running hurriedly to get closer to the rink.

-Vita! called the smaller one, her hands secured on one side of the entrance, her sibling mirroring her on the other side. Upon hearing the mispronounced nickname, the skater turned around gracefully, before skating towards the young duo.

-Good morning, Yulenka, Lyoshenka! He said cheerfully. Good morning, Kolya, he also greeted the older man, who had taken his time going down the stairs. If his voice had been less expressfull, Viktor’s smile had been just as bright as when he had welcomed the twins.

Without giving time for her grandpa to answer back, the blond, the one who had called out to Viktor, shouted again, jumping excitedly.

-Vita! Do it again! Again!

-What do you want me to do? the skater smiled, knowing full well what the small child was talking about, but still wanting to test her always expanding knowledge. Without missing a beat, she answered.

-The asel! Do it again! Even if the name had been awfully pronounced, it was a very good timing for a three year old, and Viktor happily obliged, skating away gracefully to get in position, as Nikolai looked down at his two grandchildren, taking the scenery in.

An outsider would maybe have thought no twins could be more different than these two, which wasn’t entirely untrue, per say. Look wise, so, the very first thing a stranger would learn about the kids, they were almost each other's exact opposites. Yulia was a little more than a head shorter than Alexei, and while she was thin and delicate, her twin was more on the larger side, with strong little fingers and legs. His hair was a beautiful raven black, thick and messy, while hers was a princess-like pale blond, shiny and silky. Up to the shape of their eyebrows, passing by even the diverging shades of their skin, almost everything between them was different. The only signs the two were even related were their identical pairs of mesmerising green eyes, valorised by short, but thick, eyelashes. 

Furthermore, when going a little bit more in depth, one would probably notice that, Yulia was way more vocal than Alexei. She was louder, more expressionfull in her timber, and overall talked more than the boy. She was bolder when talking, and needed more attention when doing so. Alexei, on the other hand, would simply let his twin do the talking most of the time. Because of that, he had a lot of trouble making complete sentences, a lot more than other children his age, but not enough for anyone to recommend seeing a specialist on the matter. When he talked, he was quieter, and his tone was almost expressionless for one of a toddler. However, where his voice gave very little emotions away in comparison to other three years olds, his facial expressions and body language largely made up for it. A good example could possibly be that, at the moment, even when he was silent, Nikolai could easily tell Alexei was in complete awe by Viktor’s unofficial show, by the way he was energetically bouncing in place, his hands loudly hitting the metal side of the ice rink’s entrance every time the skater jumped and landed.

But, looking past all these apparent things, one could easily tell, if paying enough attention, that the twins were actually very similar. Both were very passionate about skating, yes, but they were also very shy, simply, in different ways. They both loved scribbling with a variety of colorful markers, they both had an unnecessarily passionate hatred for any green vegetables, they both would always get back up on their feet before starting crying when they fell off. They both had troubles waking up, no matter how many hours they had slept. They both were more prone to sneezing when they were tired. They both loved Viktor very much. And they adored their grandpa more than anything else. Just so many little things, that were so hard to take notice of, but oh, so obvious, at least, for Nikolai.

To finish his little performance, Viktor bowed down, one hand on his chest, and the over flailed in his back in a theatrical way, before skating back to the entrance. He clearly was tired and ready for a small break, his respiration loud and his legs slightly shaking. He had been going too hard again. He gave the children a bright smile as they applauded him in a very childish manner, and sat on the bench to take a breather. This was the twins' clue to start pulling at their grandpa’s coat, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, which they didn’t lose any time before beginning. According to the routine they followed, if Viktor was out of the ice, it meant it was their turn to skate.

Like Viktor, Nikolai asked the children what they wanted, receiving an eager answer.

-The skates, grandpa! Want to put on the skates! Yulia shouted, letting go of the coat to flail her small arms around as she spoke. 

-And what do we say? the man asked, crouching down to be at the twins’ height. The little girl stopped to think for a second, looking truly lost, before she figured out what her grandpa meant, and answered.  
-Please! 

-Good job, Yulenka. The praise had her glow in pride, a huge toothy smile cutting her face. The man then turned to face her silent twin. It was important to encourage him to speak more, for him not to fall behind in speech. Or, at the very least, not more than he already had.

-And you, what do you want, Lyoshenka? he questioned simply. His answer took longer to come than his sister’s, and Nikolai waited patiently for the boy to find the right words.

-Want put on skates, please, was his answer, which earned him the same praise Yulia had received.

Nikolai stood up, which had the children run hurriedly up to the closest bench, which was the same one Viktor was launched on. They both climbed on it in a way that suggested they had done the same exact thing many times before, which was actually the case, and sat not so patiently, swinging their legs back and forth, waiting for their grandpa to bring over the hockey bag he had settled down farther up the stairs. As the man did so, Viktor stood up, stretching his arms up over his head. However, the children weren’t alarmed, neither reacting to the movement, as it was simply part of the routine, and simply took off their big winter coats to reveal adorable, but warm, matching jackets. Once the bag was set down and opened, Nikolai handed Alexei’s skates to the sixteen years old, who took them without any question and started helping the toddler putting them on, while the man did the same with Yulia’s. Once they were both finished, Nikolai sat himself on the bench to put on his own pair, while Viktor helped the two little ones walk up close to the rink, take off their guards and step over the edge of the entrance. Soon enough, everyone was on the ice.

The first time Nikolai had brought the twins skating had been very different from the later ones. At first, it had only been a fun activity the grandpa had thought about to keep the younger one entertained on one of those regular days he was on babysitting duty. In his young years, he had, himself, been a hockey player, never dedicated enough to make it very far but good enough to assume himself able to teach skating to three years olds. So the trio had went, one afternoon, to the local ice rink. And it had been a disaster. The place hadn’t been exactly crowded, but there sure had been a lot of people present that day. Trying to find a quiet spot to set the equipment and get ready had been hard, but it was only the beginning. 

Only when everyone was on the ice that Nikolai had realised his mistake. His very big, obvious mistake. 

He was a single adult trying to teach skating to two children, children who had just turned three and had zero experience on the ice. He had no idea how to help them both keep up right, and the moment he was helping one, he had to watch out for anybody who might run into the other one. 

They had stayed on the ice for about fifteen minutes, all of them spent pulling up each kid on their feet, just before the other one fell off. A lot of crying and shouting had happened in those fifteen minutes, and a decision had been taken.

No more skating until Nikolai found someone to come with them.

The decision hadn’t last very long.

Two weeks later, as Nikolai had picked the twins up to spend the day with them, Alexei had spoken up. 

It was surprising, having Alexei speak first. At that time, he would never say a word without being addressed first, and even then, it was mostly monosyllabic answers. More often than not, he would either let his twin do the talking for both of them, or try communicating his needs by pointing at things and shaking his head. So, the quiet voice was almost unheard, even at three years old. Which explains the quick turn Nikolai’s neck did when the sound pierced the air, for the man to almost glare at the toddler.

-Go skate? The question had been clear and simple, but Nikolai had hesitated. He had told himself they wouldn’t unless he found someone to go with them, which, unfortunately, he had yet to succeed in. Well, he hadn’t actually tried either, assuming the twins wouldn’t have any wish to go back, looking at the way their first experience had gone. But Alexei had spoken up for the matter. It must have been very important for the little boy. So, Nikolai had taken a decision, this once, one he would follow.

-Not today, but next time we see each other. Alright, Lyoshenka?

The toddler had nodded, and the rest of the day had gone as per usual, up to the moment the older man had come back home after dropping off his two grandchildren.

Starting from then, he had started working to get the kids what they wanted. Throughout the day, the man had been thinking about how to do so, had come up with a handful of solutions, and had selectioned the best one. He had grabbed the phone from the small table beside the old couch as he had sat on the comfortable cushions. He had turned the wheel a few times, calling a number he had remembered from years ago, before setting down and letting the phone ring next to his ear.

The man’s eyes had drifted off, taking in the scenery in front of him. Even when they had to clean after themselves before leaving their grandpa’s house, the twins somehow always found a way to let their presence known, leaving their mark on the place. A tiny blue crayon mark had been visible on the wall, near the floor, from when Yulia had grown tired of coloring the sky in one of her drawings, and had thrown her crayon in an anger fit. Small wheel’s marks had been carved all over the carpet, souvenirs from Alexei running around, pushing his miniature fire truck in front of him. And these had only been the ones from that day’s babysitting. All over the small, old house, tiny dents, dirty doors, messily organised shelves. The place was slowly falling apart.

And Nikolai adored his grandchildren more than ever.

Finally, the phone had been answered, pulling the man out of his thoughts. He had repositioned himself in his seat as a rough, deep voice spoke up, sounding somewhat accusatory, had resonated in his ear.

-Who is this?

Nikolai had smiled warmly before answering.

The next day, Nikolai had picked up the twins way earlier than he usually did. He had called his daughter the evening before to make sure everything was prepared so that he could do so, for example, that the twins got to bed earlier than normally. Nonetheless, the two of them had looked ready to drop down at any given moment, which had been expected. Their sleeping schedule had suddenly been thrown away, disrupted, changed unexpectedly. There was no way they would have fallen asleep the moment their head had touched the pillow. They must have spent a long time in the dark, unable to sleep. So, their grandpa had picked them both up in his arms, nodded at his daughter who promptly closed the door, and gone to set them up in his car.

The trip to the ice rink had been completely eventless, which hadn’t been surprising. The twins had been fast asleep on the passenger seat, using each other as support to be more comfortable, and very few cars could be seen driving this early in the morning. The place was a few towns over, making the trip a good forty-five minutes long, but it was the closest one that had been available for them to use at this hour.

Soon enough, Nikolai had parked the car, woken up the twins with a gentle but firm shake, and off they were.

The man he had rang the day before was one of his old hockey partners, who had continued to work in the sport after the now grandpa had dropped off to focus on his own career and family. He now worked in the administration part of the job, which was why Nikolai had called him. He had asked if there was an ice rink that would be open very early in the morning, at an hour the man knew no one would be up, ice skating. Perio’s answer had been quick and simple. Apparently, there was one rink close to Nikolai’s town who did have such hours. And that was all Nikolai needed. After hanging up, he made another call, this one to his daughter, and things had all been set up. 

Normally, Nikolai almost never called the young woman, simply because he didn’t had to. She would call him nearly every evening, asking for her father to babysit her children the day after. So, the man could always either tell her what he wanted to when she called, or when he came to pick up the twins. Also, the few times he tried to call, he mostly had been told she was too busy to talk. But this had been a special occasion, so he had taken the chance.

The trio had slowly entered the building, the two younger ones still half asleep in their grandpa’s arms. The man had seen no one at the entrance, which was, at the time, very strange to see, but he had decided to continue on. If there truly was a problem, they would simply leave when asked to. So, he had opened the double doors with one foot, and entered the rink area.

The twins had never woken up so quickly, and would probably never do so ever again.

Maybe it had been the sudden change of air temperature, the ice rink being colder than the entrance in order to keep the ice in good condition. Maybe it had been the ice rink itself, as the place was what the kids had been waiting for. But Nikolai would have bet his money on the loud thud that had echoed in the whole arena the moment the door had opened.

What had produced the sound had been quick to be figured out. In the middle of the ice had been a young man, with long, somehow silver hair, looking like he might just have fallen down from his skates. 

He also had seemed to not have noticed the newcomers, which Nikolai had not known if it was a good or bad thing. But he hadn't really cared either, as he had kept walking up to the benches, doing his own thing and taking care of the twins. The man had almost been done setting the children up in their skates when the skater had taken notice of them. 

\- Well, hello there! he had called out, cheerfully, as he had skated up to them. He had been smiling, but when Nikolai had turned to look at him, the expression had looked as fake as one could possibly be. It had been a smile created, produced for cameras, interviews, and persistent fans. It had no place on a child’s face, yet there it had been seen.

A tug on his coat had the man turning around once more, this time to face the kids.Yulia had been the one grasping at the fabric, trying her best to hide behind her grandpa, while still staring at the silver haired stranger. Alexei, on the other hand, had been fully hiding behind the man’s large form, looking down as if to make himself unnoticeable. Contradicting the children’s actions, Nikolai had moved off to the side, just enough for the young skater to see them. The reaction had been immediate on both sides.

-Oh! Hello! the kid had repeated, waving his hands at the twins, who had hurriedly moved back, to hide behind their grandpa. Seeing as he wasn’t getting any answer from them any time soon, the skater had turned to look at the older man to continue the small talk.

-What are you doing here this early? Nobody comes normally. He said in a light tone, like he was talking to one of his friends, even though it had still sounded slightly fake to Nikolai. 

-Didn’t want the ice to be full. What about you? He answered simply. Nikolai was a man of very few words, never seeing the point in unnecessary babbling.

-I’m practicing my skating. I had my coach set things up for me so that I would have a time to practice more, without having to deal with the crowds open hours bring in, which happened to be very early in the morning. I won’t complain too loud, because I’ve seen how hard Yakov worked to get the administration to be okay with opening up the place out of the normal scheduled hours, and letting it without any adult supervision, but it's soo earlyyyyyy. But it’s way nicer than late at night, because the ice is still new, so at least there’s that. You should have seen the old man’s face. Yakov never liked dealing with paperwork, and I was asking him to schedule me a few hours alone at an arena he has never set a foot in. It was almost funny, to be honest.

Well, the kid certainly didn’t share Nikolai’s opinion.

After a few minutes of small talk, the skater, who had introduced himself as Viktor Nikiforov, went back to his training. He skated in circles a couple times, picking up speed, before going to do a jump the man had no idea what it was called. He landed, slightly wobbly, but keeping up his stance, and that had been the clue for the children to come out of their hiding place.

Their faces had lit up with amazement. 

They had promptly turned to look at eachother, all wide eyes and face stretching smiles.

-Yuka, Alexei had almost whispered, pointing at the skater, while Yulia had called, way louder.

-Yoka! Look! Look! He jump in the air! He jump and spin and fly!

And that’s all it had taken to break the ice. The first few moments, they had still acted shy, not completely trusting of Viktor, but soon enough, they had warmed up, and even allowed him to help them keep up straight once they were on the ice. 

The few months following the unexpected meeting, Viktor had always been there each and every morning, except, as mentioned before, Saturdays. After the time was up, however, the young man had to go back to Saint-Petersburg, where his coach was waiting for him, ready for the upcoming skating season. He had explained to Nikolai before hand, that, the only reason he wasn’t back in the other city all year long was because he had, was expected to, go back to his parents, who lived near Moscow, when he was off season. But he had also told the older man that he was glad he had decided to be obedient, since, well, if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have met him, nor the twins.

Telling the sad truth to said twins, however, hadn’t gone as well as Nikolai would have wished. The two of them had already grown overly attached to Viktor in the few months they had spent in his company, and the skater leaving them looked truly heartbreaking. They had screamed, held onto the young man like their life depended on it, cried and begged. Both men had to deal with a tiring amount of tantrums, which, at first, Viktor truly hadn’t seemed to know how to deal with. The kids had gotten over it eventually, but still were extremely sad and fussy when the skater had actually left for the far away city.

Luckily, both children had, at that point, gotten good enough on the ice for Nikolai to keep taking them to the ice rink each morning, even if he was alone while doing so. Of course, they would still fall every few meters, but they rapidly made impressively significant progress, and they no longer required an adult to hold on to to keep their balance. So, it was now envisageable for the older man to simply help one twin get up, without the other one falling while he did so. Plus, if what Viktor had told him was true, there was no reason for the ice rink to stop opening up early in the morning, so the three of them would still have access to the empty arena while the skater was gone.

In short, the twins now had a new passion, a new friend, and something to look forward to. It was great.


	2. To watch them learn

-Yoka!

The sound had been loud enough for the young boy and his grandpa to hear it over all the general tumult in the arena, which was pretty impressive. Between the almost shouting coaches, crying children, and slashing of blades on the ice, there were a lot of noises, but somehow, Yulia had found a way to over power all of that. The little girl was waving her arms up above her head, smiling wildly.

-Yoka! Grandpa! Did you see what I did? Did you see it? she asked, making sure they had been watching her, which, of course, they had. Alexei and Nikolai were seated on benches near the ice rink, and had a perfect view of everything the blond accomplished all throughout her lesson. This time, Yulia was asking about her skating backwards, without falling, of course. She had picked up the skill at an admirable speed. It had only been five weeks since she had started practicing, and she was already able to go around the whole rink without falling, making her ahead of her class comrades by a large margin. Of course, she also practised way more than them, still going to the rink almost every morning in addition to her weekly lesson. Viktor, as well, always had a helpful tip to give, almost acting like he was the girl’s coach at times. Even when he was in season, far away in Saint-Petersburg, Viktor would continue to cheer and encourage both twins, keeping updated on their progress every other day by phone, an event the kids waited for impatiently everytime. So, the little girl, and her brother, had more instruments to help them in their success than their comrades. That, and they simply seemed to be complete naturals at the two sports.

Both young boy and old man nodded in affirmation before Yulia got called back by her coach, a young brunette in her twenties. Her lesson was almost finished, which meant that it would be Alexei’s turn soon. They had been lucky enough to have both lessons organised the same day of the week, almost right one after the other. 

The duo watched as Yulia listened to her actual coach, her face showing a wide range of emotions as she did so, going from a prideful grin to a frustrated frown in a matter of seconds. She must have been told off by the woman for being too careless. The pout stayed on while the woman went from student to student, and when the young students skated away to get off the ice. Both boy and man waited while Yulia carefully set the guards on her skates with the rest of the class, said the required polite goodbye to the teacher, and walked up to them, still looking very unhappy. She sat next to her brother, looking down as her grandpa took off her skates for her.

Nikolai took a juice box from the hockey bag at his feet after securing Yulia’s skate in it, and handed the beverage to the little girl. She stubbornly didn’t look up, nor did she take the snack that was handed to her, but it was a predictable reaction. Yulia didn’t do well with being told she had done something bad, and it wasn’t the first time this kind of situation had occurred. Consequently, her grandpa knew exactly how to deal with it.

-You did really great out there. And that was all that was needed. Yulia looked up, face all lit up, in that easily distracted manner all children seemed to possess. Alexei, next to her, nodded in agreement, because it was the truth. She had done wonderful. Now happy with herself and the world, the small girl took her juice from her grandpa’s hand and began to drink hungrily.

Five minutes later, it was Alexei’s turn to go on the ice. Nikolai finished tying up his skates’ laces, and the little boy made his way to his own coach, who was standing next to the rink’s entrance.

The skates the children had now weren’t the same they had started off with, around a year ago. Those had been old pairs Nikolai had found stored carelessly in boxes, in his attic. If he recalled properly, they once had been his daughter’s, many decades ago. The twins being so different in size, he had been able to fit both of them in different pairs from his daughter’s different ages. However, he had had to change the pairs, and taking old ones like these was no longer an option once the kids had started taking lessons. Yulia needed different models for her figure skating, ones he didn’t own, and Alexei had grown out of the largest, still wearable, children pair he had in stock. So, they had needed to go buy new ones.

Talking to the twins’ parent about it had been a calculated thing, to say the least. Feodora wasn’t very prone to spend large amounts of money on her children, even if she had the money for sure. She didn’t want them to become too needy and demanding, and according to her, they were already spoiled rotten by her father. Nikolai was far from thinking it was the case, but had also decided a long time ago to not interfere in his daughter’s way of raising her kids. At least, unless it became toxic, of course. 

The discussion in itself had been quick and efficient, like everything Feodora did these days. No time wasted, no unimportant details. Just the bare necessity for everything to function the way she desired. After a bit of very business sounding conversation, especially since it was, at its core, a discussion between a father and his daughter, an arrangement had been settled between the two adults. Feodora would pay for the needed equipment and all the lessons, if Nikolai organised everything, took care of the car rides, and all over managed the twins for everything relating the activities. That, the grandpa had already planned to do so. He had been involved in the kids’ passion since day one, it was only right in his mind to continue doing so. However, it wasn’t all. Nikolai would aslo have to pick up the kids for school once it would start, in two years, morning and afternoon. That was more than the man had expected having to agree with, but he did nonetheless. It was a small sacrifice, really, to have his grandchildren enjoy themselves in their respective passions.

So, everything had been settled pretty quickly, and Nikolai had begun looking into subscribing the twins into lessons. 

He already knew he wanted them to take place at the same arena they did their morning sessions, for the comfort of being in a well known place. And he also knew the place had some pretty good quality lessons, given by fully competent coaches, a fact that had been confirmed by Viktor, who had almost lived in the ice rink throughout his entire childhood, before he got more serious and began skating under Yakov’s, his own instructor, directions. 

He also knew what specific lessons each kid wanted. As they grew up, they had developed personality traits different from one another. A good example was Yulia’s fascination with cats and felines in general, and Alexei’s obsession with anything space related, from cartoon aliens to actual mars documentaries. Each day, the kids seemed to grow apart, but somehow still had so many points in common that they were undeniably twins.

That being said, each child had shown different interests in separate aspects of skating. Alexei had never shown any curiosity towards trying to do jumps or spins. Of course, he was in awe every time he saw Viktor try out a new trick, but that was about it. What had catched his attention, however, had been hockey. All it had taken was one game showing on the tv, and suddenly, the boy had started to take skating practice way more seriously. He asked his grandpa questions about everything, the different positions, the scoring system, the players, the rules, the strategies, the moves. At four years old, Alexei would have been fully capable of helping arbitrate a small, friendly game. The visible delight on his face when Nikolai had bought him his very own small hockey stick had only been the confirmation. Alexei would be taking hockey lessons.

And he was doing very well in them. Of course, he had pretty much mastered basic skating at this point, and was way ahead of everybody else when it came to turns, stops and backwards skating. His control on the poke was impressive for a four years old, and after a few mornings, the stick seemed to have no more secrets for the little boy. And, for sure, his knowledge of the sport was unmatched by any of his comrades. 

But, Alexei had his weak points. Namely, his communication’s skills were behind, making teamwork harder for the boy. He wasn’t used to playing with a whole group of people, as he had spent the first years of his childhood with his sister as his only companion, and his hockey practice had, at first, only been with his grandpa. It had been a huge shift from the reality he had been living in for so long, and he was taking some time to adjust. Also, according to his coach, his almost emotionless voice and unique character traits made the other children uneasy. But that, and Nikolai had made sure the boy knew that much, wasn’t Alexei’s fault. He simply was the way he was, and had no need to change if it was to please others.

The coach’s whistle made itself eared all throughout the rink, signaling that warm up time was finished, and that the children needed to gaver around the teacher to learn about what they would do that day. The call had been Yulia’s clue to go dump her now empty and unnecessarily squeezed up juice box. That was another of the many common points the twins shared. They would both, throughout the other one’s lesson, simply sit there, content with watching their sibling progress in their respective passion. No, in fact, not content. They would go out of their way to watch every single minute of it, only looking away during the few breaks there were. It would have been borderline annoying, if the kids hadn’t been so adorable doing it. They would both pout slightly when focused, with their eyebrows furrowed, Alexei being more expressive when he did so, and it simply was one of the cutest things Nikolai had seen any child do. They’re dedication was also very respectable.

Yulia hurriedly made her way back to the bench, sitting closer to her grandpa now that her brother wasn’t taking the place anymore, and the lesson went on. Today, it seemed to be mainly focused on controlling the stick, which meant Alexei would be able to try out new ways to use it, trying to copy what he had seen on tv. At first, like any other child would have, he mostly failed, but as time went on, he grew closer and closer to the actual movement he wanted to do. Of course, it wasn’t anything too complicated. The coach always made sure to guide the little boy throughout his practicing, telling him what to practice and how exactly to do the movement. If she hadn’t been doing that, well, Alexei would always be trying out moves that were way too complicated for a boy as young as him. Both Alexei and Yulia had very little idea of where their limits stood, and when they would take notice that they were reaching closer to them, they would simply ignore it and keep going on. That particular personality trait had led to many unfortunate accidents, nothing too big, of course, only small bruises. But they were avoidable, and weren’t fun to deal with.

Yulia was very successful in her own sport as well. Just like Alexei with hockey, figure skating had come like a second nature to the girl. And her interest had been the easiest to spot. She had just learned how to stand correctly on her skates without falling every few seconds, and she had asked to do the same jumps as Viktor did. The negative answer hadn’t been taken well. A huge tantrum had occurred that morning, and had only stopped when Alexei pressed a small finger to his sister’s lips, shushing her. Viktor had to refrain from exploding in laughter, the scene being hilarious in his eyes. Even Nikolai couldn’t refrain a smile. After Yulia had calmed down, Viktor had made a deal with her. For now, he wouldn’t teach the girl any jumps or tricks, but if she ever took lessons, he would help her practice the ones she was introduced to in class.

So, putting the girl in anything other than figure skating lessons had been completly out of question.

Yulia also benefited from her year long supplementary experience, and her extra hours of practice each week. But, on the contrary of her brother, her shyness didn’t get too much in her way during her lessons. Figure skating wasn’t really a team sport, so constant communication with her comrades wasn’t needed as much. The only times where it had been an obstacle were when, at first, her coach wanted to help her, and Yulia hadn’t wished to listen, not trusting the fully capable and responsible adult who was paid to do so. It had taken some time and encouragements from her grandpa for the little girl to start considering that her coach may not be an enemy or any kind of competition. Luckily, things had settled between the two, which meant Yulia improved even quicker than before, taking her coach's advices into consideration.

The man and girl sat on the bench through all the fifty minutes of Alexei’s hockey lesson, the latter occasionally shouting encouragements at her brother. The last fifteen minutes were always dedicated to a small match between two teams, whose members changed every time. No points were ever counted, as the matches were only to encourage teamwork and having fun while playing. But, Nikolai did count his grandson’s goals every time. 

Soon enough, the boy was dismissed for the day, and it was time to go home. Alexei had managed to put the poke in the net three times.

Morning sessions were very different from what they had been at first. The set routine had shifted bit by bit, up until most things weren’t the same as before. The first big change had been that, now, the kids would stay on the ice after Viktor’s breaks were finished.

The twins hadn’t learned to tie their laces yet, so they still had to wait for the skater to get off the ice before having their turn. The way they reacted when one of them could go skating before the other one had been something Nikolai had had to discover, when Viktor had had to go back to Saint-Petersburg. Both twins were very competitive with each other when given the opportunity, and would argue at any chance presented to them. Without anyone to help him tie the kids’ laces, Nikolai had had to pull out some cheap tricks, like giving them snacks beforehand, to avoid any unnecessary bickering. Now that the professional skater was back, however, the older man could simply go back to the old routine.

The twins’ arguments were pretty ridiculous, too. Not only were they mostly caused by very little, insignificant things, like who could run the fastest or eat the biggest mouthful of spaghetti, but they would go on forever. The reason behind it was that Alexei would simply keep silent, while Yulia nagged him to the best of her skills. Her brother not verbally fighting back would irritate the young girl to no end, and the one sided bickering would then turn into Yulia trying to make Alexei finally talk back at her. And it would continue up until Nikolai interverned, because Alexei never gave in to his sister’s invitations to dispute, and Yulia seemed to be incapable of letting her brother win a fight with her.

So, until they would both be able to put on their skates on their own, the man would still either have Viktor help him do it for them, or go back to distracting the kids with small, but efficient, tricks.

One thing that had changed, however, was that, now, when it was time for Viktor to go back to serious training, the twins would stay on the ice. The reasoning behind the decision had been that, finally, both of them didn’t need help skating anymore. They were both fully competent in the rink. So, not only did it mean that Nikolai didn’t need a second person to be present when he went skating with the twins, but also that they wouldn’t be in Viktor’s way. The ice was big enough for all three skaters, and Nikolai, of course, the older skater had assured him. The twins, as long as they behaved a minimum, didn’t bring in one single worry during his exercises. Or, at the very least, that’s what he had told him.

Of course, that didn’t mean the kids could practice as much as the older skater. They were much younger, too small to practice as extensively and hard as Viktor. Such behavior could ruin one’s development, and Nikolai made sure their passion didn’t endangered the twins. Their health and well being were his priority, even if it annoyed the two of them to no end.

That particular morning had been abnormally hard. Neither Alexei nor Yulia would behave. Over the past year, the two of them had grown an attitude they didn’t have before. Yulia would refuse to do almost everything she was asked to if she couldn’t see the fun in it, and Alexei would simply ignore what he had been told. And the things they would disagree with were diverse and unpredictable. 

This time, the current argument was about the zip up hoodies the kids had to wear to go in the rink. Apparently, they were now too big to need, or even put on such things, and refused to put them back on. Nikolai was near pulling out his final trick, walking back to the car with the skates. He had had to use it a few times before, and it always worked. However, the man wanted to avoid using it too often. If it was very effective and did it’s job perfectly, it didn’t seem like the best way to teach children how to behave. Threatening was only to be used if absolutely necessary. 

Nikolai had tried letting the children learn by themselves before. Letting them fall so that they would learn to stand up, and then stay up right. The strategy did work pretty well for a few things, like talking, or walking. But other things, like their own well being, the kids would simply forget about. How many times had they catched a cold, because they had forgotten that it would be the consequence for not putting on their beanies? How many hours did Nikolai spend treating bruises and scratches, because the kids would insist on jumping from the highest points on the playgrounds? In short, the strategy had failed miserably, and had to be dropped when it came to certain things.

Viktor would also always try to help with disciplining the kids, reinforcing Nikolai’s points in the best of his capacities. The seventeen years old was far from being a responsible adult, but he did his best to help when it came to the twins. They basically were like his little siblings, as shown in the different ways they interacted and cared for each other. He only wished the best for them. It was heartwarming to see, and the help was, more often than not, much appreciated.

This time, however, nothing seemed to work, which was why Nikolai was close to pulling the last trick in his bag. No joke, no promise, no sarcastic comment seemed able to change the twins’ mindset.

-I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna! Yulia was shouting, stomping her small feet on the bench she was standing on, eyes closed in an angry pout. It was hard to take her seriously, a four years old, small for her age, with blond hair going everywhere due to the static from her beanie. But this had been going on for several minutes now, and both men were getting tired of it.

Alexei, on his part, had thrown his jacket on the floor, and had walked away silently. He was now sitting in a corner, sulking. Sooner, when Viktor had tried approaching him gently, the boy had quickly gotten up from his previous place and had almost ran to his current position. He acted in similar ways every time he got frustrated, sad, nervous, or, really, whenever any strong, negative emotion took over his small heart.

That was yet another point that differienced the two twins. They were both horrible when dealing with their emotions, but they both had different ways to do so. When Alexei hid and ignored his problems, Yulia shouted, screamed and cried as a way to attack them. Neither were agreable while dealing with.

Seeing as they were going nowhere like this, Nikolai made his decision. It was time to pull out the big artillery.

He calmly turned away from the screaming child, in direction of the forgotten hockey bag. That precise movement set all the alarms for the girl, who jumped off the bench she had been perched on, running to get to the bag before her grandpa, jumping on it in an attempt to protect it from the man. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, and wanted to avoid it at all cost.

Nikolai made his way up to the bag as calmly as humanly possible. He crouched to take his granddaughter off it, but the little girl was not having it. She struggled energetically against the man, squirming around in an effort to not be catched, but stubbornly stayed on the bag, preventing her grandpa from taking it. 

Nikolai then tried to shove the girl off, gently of course, just enough for the bag to be free from her moving form. And, Yulia, acting on panic and instinct, did something the man hadn’t thought she would.

She bit his arm.

Nikolai stood still as the small girl sank her teeth in the warm fabric of his jacket, that was slowly getting wetter from her saliva. He stood still, as to not harm her, face guarded, doing his best to keep his cool. An outburst on his part wasn’t needed right now.

-Ouch, he simply said, no emotion in his voice, to make Yulia realise she was hurting him, even if it was so slightly.

And she did.

She immediately let go of the arm, looking up at her grandpa with worry painted all over her face. The two stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, in complete silence, before Yulia’s eyes blurred up with salty water. A moment later, she bursted into tears.

She launched herself into her grandpa’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, mumbling quickly sounds that sounded vaguely like apologies. Immediately, Nikolai wrapped her in his own strong, warm arms.

Soon enough, another small face came in his peripheral vision, this one with a mop of dark hair on top of his head. Alexei was standing behind his sister, looking very unsure on what to do, exactly. The little boy must have ran all the way up there when he had heard the sound of his sister’s sobs. Even if he was only a few minutes older than her, he took his big brother role very seriously. He was like a knight, always ready to protect the little princess.

Nikolai reached out one arm, gently pulling his grandson into the much needed family hug. Said embrace lasted a good moment, Yulia’s sobs gradually quieting down, until the little girl had almost completely calmed down. Her grandpa gave her another minute to actually enjoy the hug, before pulling away, taking out a tissue from his pocket to blow the poor girl’s runny nose. Once that had been dealt with, Nikolai reached out, setting one hand on one of each child's shoulder. He looked both of them in the eyes, and spoke up.

-Why is what you did bad, Yulenka? he asked calmly, looking at the called out kid. She stayed silent for a moment, and Nikolai patiently waited for her answer. When she spoke, her voice was still shaking a little, but at least what she was saying was understandable, an improvement from before.

-Because I hurted you, and hurting you is not nice. Nikolai shook his head in approval.

-That right. And why is listening to the rules important? he asked again, this time directing the question to both twins in front of him. As expected, Yulia spoke up first.

-Because the rules are there for a reason, and throwing a tantrum isn’t nice, she said. It wasn’t the first time she had had to tell the reasoning, but it was the first time the meaning behind the words seemed to have been understood, her eyes wide, and her tone full of comprehension. Nikolai nodded again.

-That’s also right. And you, Lyoshenka, why do you think listening to the rules are important? He said, turning to the boy. In the past year, he had actually improved a lot when it came to talking, speaking up first more often every day. However, whenever he was upset, the old habit and his bad grammar tended to come back.

-’Cause the big persons that did the rules be responsible. They want me and Yuka good life, the little boy mumbled quietly, looking down. He apparently was still in a hiding mood, but, from experience, Nikolai knew it would fade away soon enough. He, then again, shook his head.

-Exactly. Now, what should you two do? the man asked. The two children both looked up at him this time, and soon enough, they ran away, on their way to go pick up their respective jackets. In a short moment, all of this would be forgotten, but, hopefully, the lesson would finally be learned. Nikolai could have gone with a few weeks free of any tantrums. 

Next to him, Viktor was smiling warmly, observing as the children clustsely put on the warm garments. The young man had been standing there the whole time, outside spectator to the heartwarming scene that had just occurred. He turned to look at the older man, before going to a nearby bench to prepare to put on Alexei’s skates for him, without a word.

The two children came back, jackets finally on, and the skating session continued like it always did.

After that morning, Nikolai never had any more troubles with the twins when it came to clothing. Of course, life wasn’t always perfect, tantrums still broke up, and arguments still happened. About things like food the kids didn’t want to eat, or activities they wanted to do, but weren’t allowed to. Never about anything even remotely related to clothes.


	3. To listen

Nikolai had sensed that something was wrong with Yulia the moment he had picked up the twins, that very morning.

Actually, thinking about it, something had felt off about the girl for a while now. She seemed always angry, and her outbursts were more frequent and random than they had been in a long time. She always acted suspicious towards everyone beside the three men in her life, Alexei, Viktor and her grandpa. But, at first, Nikolai had reasoned that, all these new character traits could be explained by puberty. Indeed, the young girl was right at the age when girls were said to start the obligatory life phase. It could also explain why she had suddenly started wearing almost exclusively baggy clothes. It felt out of character, for such a confident child to start hiding her form like that, but Nikolai respected her choice. She would surely go over it soon enough, anyways, he had reasoned. However, there were also other things, these ones simply worrying for Yulia to display.

The most obvious one clearly was the nervous and guarded way she would act around her grandpa. At first, the sentiment had only been displayed when they were in public, at the mall, or at the restaurant, for example, towards the people passing by, strangers. Yulia had always been a shy kid, so the act, even if it had started unexpectedly, wasn’t so surprising.

But after a while, Yulia had also started to act that way with the older man and Viktor. It had been strange, worrisome, enough, but what had truly set up the alarms had been the fact that the girl would also be stressed out when alone with her brother. 

Alexei had always been Yulia’s one true confidant. He was always the first one she would turn to in any given situation. He was the only one she always had had blind faith in, trusting him with her secrets before she would anyone else. They told each other everything, about what they had done, how they felt, what they thought. They were always together, each other's' best friend and more. So, for the girl to act this way with the boy, something bad, very bad, must have happened. 

Luckily, the whole act had taken a stop only a few days after it had started. Soon enough, the two of them had been back to the very way they had been before, inseparable, attached to the hip. Well, almost. Something had changed, and Nikolai couldn’t put a name on it. But, it felt like something positive, as if they somehow trusted eachother even more than before, so the man had decided that knowing wasn’t that important. The kids’ well being had been the only thing that truly mattered in the immediate, and nothing was endangering it.

But, it had been a few weeks, and Yulia was still the same way around him and Viktor. All stressed out, at all times. Hesitating before speaking up. Sparing side glances, eyes clouded with worry. Playing with her long, blond hair nervously, before staring at it with an uncalled for hatred. Such behavior wasn’t normal, or any good, for Yulia to demonstrate, puberty or no puberty. After two weeks, the two concerned men were truly starting to feel concerned about the whole ordeal. 

And one week later, it looked like Nikolai would finally get an answer.

Nikolai and Yulia were both sitting at the small kitchen table, right in front of each other, two cups of earl grey tea between them. 

So far, the day had been following the schedule. Since the twins had been nine, they both had started practicing their two different sports more seriously. They had moved to Saint-Petersburg with their grandpa, to take their lessons at the same place Viktor did. However, their routine hadn’t changed that much from when they all lived in Moscow. They had gone to the rink for a quick, non-obligatory, morning session before the kids had to go to their respective lessons, lacrosse for Alexei and ballet for Yulia. Nikolai hadn’t gotten called once, which hadn’t been exactly rare since the children had started the different sports. Yulia had some serious, anger related issues, and Alexei just always found new improbable situations to put himself in. 

The way back to the small house, that somehow resembled in many ways Nikolai’s previous one, at the end of the day, had been done in complete silence, which also wasn’t abnormal. If the kids often had lots to say about their day, sometimes, they simply wanted to enjoy a break in their ,oh, so full schedule. Between hockey, figure skating, ballet, lacrosse, soccer, taekwondo, and online academic lessons, both children had their arms full, and, from time to time, just wished to relax for half an hour. Which Nikolai could completely understand. If he, on his part, certainly didn’t have any sports to tire himself out, he did have to drive both Yulia and Alexei, everywhere. Except for when the two of them were away, in training camps for example, the old man almost never had a completely free day. He didn’t really mind, though. He had retired years ago, and taking care of his grandchildren was the best job he could have asked for. Plus, he found that keeping calm and motionless, very worrisome, and much preferred the action the twins brought into his life.

However, that time, the air in the car had been tense, and the usually comfortable silence, itching to be broken. When Nikolai had stopped the car, the two children had made their way in the house, without a word. No questions about snacks, no complaints about different homeworks, no shouting about going through the door first. 

It had been near to an hour after they had arrived, when Yulia had stepped into the kitchen, silently. Without a word, Nikolai had poured the tea he had coincidentally been making into two cups, which he had setted on the table, inviting his granddaughter to sit with him doing so. 

So, now, it had been a good minute of complete silence between the two. Alexei, who had stepped in the space only a second after his sister, was also present, standing across Yulia like the dedicated knight he was for the blond girl, ready to protect her from the world. He had been acting that way since they were little. But, the fact that, this time, he was the possible danger, the threat, the bad guy, was making Nikolai very uneasy. But, as always, he went out of his way to make his grandchildren comfortable around him. So, he kept silent, giving Yulia all the time she needed.

And, apparently, she had gotten it all.

-I’m not Yulia.

Her voice had been firm, but quieter than it would normally have been. She wasn’t looking at her grandpa, eyes stubbornly fixed on the cup of tea in front of her. Nikolai stayed still for a moment, before slowly nodding. Both children in front of him were tense, taking in his every movement with precaution, trying to read his emotions and intentions. Calmly, and softly, he asked.

-And what does that mean? The question, that could have been said sarcastically, or condescendingly, was exactly the opposite of that. Nikolai truly wanted to understand, to know exactly what his granddaughter was trying to tell him.

Yulia took a slightly shaky breath, before answering.

-I’m not a girl, I’m a boy. I want to be called one. I’m not Yulia, she, no, he repeated, shaking his head, like he was confirming it more for himself than for his grandpa. Nikolai took a small moment to take in the information he had been just told.

This wasn’t so uncalled for, now that the older man thought about it. Little clues had been dropped, all throughout the girl’s, no, the boy’s, childhood. Small things, like him not completely understanding why he had to go change in a different locker room than his brother, or taking the title of tomboy with pride, among other, small, every day gestures. And, more recently, hating on his long hair and suddenly growing forms.

However, if it wasn’t so surprising, it was still a big change in Nikolai’s life. The child he had known since his first breath wasn’t exactly the person he thought he was. 

But, he would learn, because, in the end, his grandson was still the same as he always had been.

-Who are you, then?

The blond boy looked up, smiling wildly, visibly relieved.

-Yuri.

Since Yuri’s coming out, a few adjustments had been made. 

The first thing Nikolai had done had been to ask Yuri what he needed to be comfortable. The answer had been immediate, without any hesitation from the boy.

-I want a binder, the boy had answered confidently. Nikolai had nodded in understanding, even if, at the time, he had not known what the word actually meant, and, after fifteen minutes of internet browsing and chest measurements, said garment was ordered, on its way to Nikolai’s mail box.

The second thing the boy had asked for had been for his name and sex to be legally changed. They had to talk a little more about that specific request. Without Feodora’s approval, it was very difficult for Nikolai to do such a thing. Not only that, but they did live in Russia, a country known among overs for being extremely, overly, conservative. Nikolai didn’t know that much about the subject, but he was almost sure, some pretty strict requirements had to be filled for a transgender person to change their name legally. What him and Yuri had agreed on at the end was that, until he came out to his mother, which he hadn’t done yet, Yuri would have to keep his legal name the way it already was. Then, they would, together, make some research, to see if it was possible, and how to do it. However, his grandpa would help him change his name at school, at the rink, and at every other extra activity the boy was enrolled in, supporting him and taking his back if needed. The boy’s mother never actually looked at any schools report, or watched any of her sons’ competitions, only asking about them to Nikolai, so at least changing his name in the organisations shouldn’t get noticed by the woman. Yuri wasn’t fully satisfied with the arrangement, but he understood why he couldn’t get exactly what he wanted, and got over it, at the moment at least, to make a third request.

Cutting Yuri’s hair had been the easiest request to fulfill so far. Nikolai had been cutting the twins’ hair since they were babies, and, before that, he had years of experience, cutting his own daughter’s locks, as well as his late wife’s. So, the man was pretty skilled with scissors. Feodora wasn’t going to approve of the haircut, but Nikolai decided he would deal with it later. His daughter was still back in Moscow, and the next scheduled time she would see the twins wasn’t anytime soon. Right now, Yuri’s well being and happiness was more important. 

Snip by snip, lock by lock, Yuri’s hair had been cut way shorter than it had been before, in a slightly longer version of Alexei’s.

The smile on his face when he had looked himself in the mirror made all futur arguments worth it for Nikolai.

That night, after sending the twins to bed, Nikolai sat down in front of the computer, a goal in mind.

Said goal was way easier to fulfill than the man had originally anticipated.

He first searched about the scientific explaination behind transgender people. After scrolling past all the unscientific, or outdated links suggested to him for the region he was living in, he finally got to see actual accurate and reliable articles. After some quick lecture, he learned all he deemed necessary at the moment. 

The human brain was, in fact, a big, complicated system with many flaws and defaults. Nikolai didn’t understand everything he was reading, as he was no neurologue, or even close to being a worthy scientist of any kind. But the explanations weren’t all that complicated as a whole. Apparently, a part in Yuri’s brain didn’t match up with his natural born gender, making him a boy in every single way except physical.

However, since he hadn’t fully understood the explanation, he researched the true definition of gender. What he read then, he could take a grasp of. What most people came to agreement with, was that gender, at its core, was a social invention. Therefore, anyone could feel like another label was a better suit to them, without any need to justify themselves. After a moment of thinking, the explanation did make sense to Nikolai. If Yuri felt like being a boy was more comfortable for him, then so be it. Not only was there no good reason not to do so, but also, the look on the kid’s face when he had been accepted and acknowledged by his grandpa, was enough to convince Nikolai that it was, indeed, for the best.

Nikolai’s third question for the internet was how he could best support his grandson. A couple lists had been made. Having his back when it came to coming out to other people had already been something the old man had guaranteed himself he would always do, just like listening to Yuri’s needs and requests. He did take some new notes, though, like how he could ask questions to the boy, if he wanted any hormones, for example, or hormone blockers. The blond hadn’t mentioned anything about the two subjects beforehand, even though it could be an excellent thing for him to consider. Of course, Nikolai would respect any decision Yuri would make on the matter.

The whole thing took about one hour, after which Nikolai closed the computer, satisfied with the information he had been able to put his hand on. It wasn’t a whole lot, but it was enough for the man to understand the basics, enough for him at the moment. If anything came up, he planned to turn back to internet research, but he honestly didn’t think it was that necessary for now, in the situation the kid was in.

The next day was Friday. After coming out to his grandpa, Yuri had regained his lost confidence, the previous nervousness long forgotten. Both him and his brother had dropped all the build up tension, going back to their true, authentic selves. It was nice to see, as Nikolai had missed his grandsons.

Yuri’s coming out had answered many questions. Like why he had been all nervous around the other three men. Nikolai guessed he had been scared of being rejected, laughed at, not taken seriously. 

The moment he had first come out to someone, namely, Alexei, had been easy to pinpoint, as the change of attitude Yuri had toward him had changed from one day to an over. He must have told him when they were in their shared bedroom, at night, while they were supposed to be sleeping. That also explained why the taller boy had, as well, been tense from that moment, even if it was less apparent than Yuri. He must have been nervous for his brother. 

And, apparently, he still was.

At the moment, they had just arrived at the rink for morning practice. The day before, Yuri had said he was going to come out to Viktor right after they did so, which was exactly what he was doing. Nikolai had stayed behind while the young boy had quickly put on his skates to join the older skater on the ice. Alexei, however, in opposition, had immediately followed his brother, and was now standing right behind him, glaring dangerously at Viktor.

Yuri no longer presented as a girl, but that just meant his brother would be the knight for his prince instead.

Said prince looked very fearless for what he was doing, and it was a good thing. Nikolai could guess that the new found confidence was from his own acceptance of the young boy. Yuri now knew his grandpa would stand up for him at any given moment. He had nothing to be afraid of, as long as the older man was there. Plus, his brother would always have his back. Nothing, nobody, would, or even, could, hurt Yuri if Alexei was there.

A loud laugh echoed in the arena, right before Viktor pulled Yuri right in his arms, for a rib crushing hug. As expected, the silver haired young man had immediately accepted Yuri for who he was. Alexei visibly relaxed, and Nikolai smiled warmly. Viktor, in the contrary of Nikolai, hadn’t taken any second to adjust and figure out what Yuri’s revelation meant, which was made very clear by the sudden call.

-So, you’re Yurochka instead! Got it! Unsurprisingly, the skater had already given the young boy his new nickname. It was the expected reaction, to be real. Viktor was the most open minded, most judgementless, most accepting person Nikolai, and the twins, knew. Comments about how he thought other men were beautiful were shamelessly thrown around by the young silver haired, and, if he recalled correctly, Nikolai remembered one specific time, where Viktor had assured a fan that he was, in his words, the farthest thing from straight. In short, any diverging reply would have been taken with shock.

So far, everything was going for the best.

Changing Yuri’s name in his online school program had been more complicated than Nikolai had thought it would.

He had called the director the day after the boy’s coming out, during the evening, before being redirected to the program’s counselor. The woman had listened to Nikolai without a single world, and had kept silent a moment after he had been done, before replying, rather coldly.

-I’ll need the child’s parents’ approval before taking any steps.

That was going to be a problem.

Yuri had made it very clear that he didn’t wish to come out to his mother, which was understandable. The woman hadn’t reacted well to the boy’s new haircut, that she had learned about by a sudden, unexpected face call. She even had threatened her father of finding someone else to take care of the twins. Of course, Nikolai knew Feodora wouldn’t do such a thing, as she wasn’t really into the idea of spending lots of money on the twins, and she wasn’t willing to move to Saint-Petersburg, away from the high ranked, well-paying job she had. A babysitter would have been way too expensive in the long term. She was also not prone to tearing the kids apart from their respective sport. She didn’t act like it, or made it very clear, but Nikolai knew, she was expecting grand things from her children.

The mother also wasn’t very supportive of Yuri’s more masculine traits, and she had made sure her opinion was known. Negative remarks about the boy’s choice of clothing had been considered part of the routine for a while, given every few calls, or when the twins would go back home, for holidays, most of the time. Comments about Yuri needing to be more ladylike also had been made for years. Nikolai didn’t support any of it, but also wasn’t sure how to act about it. So, he did his best, and always made sure Yuri knew, that he was perfect the way he was, and that he didn’t have the need to change for his mother, even before his coming out.

In short, Feodora didn’t exactly seem like the kind of person who would immediately accept Yuri for who he was.

So, needing his daughter’s approval before changing Yuri’s name was an obstacle Nikolai didn’t know how to avoid.

Of course, he understood why the condition was there. Once the name would be changed, it would not only show on the attendance lists, but also on the report cards, and the emails sent to the child’s parent. Feodora would, sooner or later, notice that the name wasn’t the one it had been before, and would, most likely, have some questions to ask.

So, after talking about it with Yuri, Nikolai had made an arrangement with the counselor. The boy's name would stay the same as it was before on everything official, but, all his teachers would be notified about the change. And if anyone didn't respect his name or pronouns, Yuri had promised to tell his grandpa right away, so that he could deal with them. 

Since Nikolai was Yuri’s responsible guardian registered at the ice rink, things there had been surprisingly, easier to deal with. The boy’s coach, a small woman with long, light brown hair, had made it very clear that she couldn’t have cared less what Yuri identified as, as long as he kept his performance as good as it was. And when it came to competitions, the girl assured the older man she would deal with it. According to her, figure skating was a sport where biological women and men were pretty much on an equal step, especially at Yuri’s age and level. So, by pulling some string and playing some good cards, she could easily put Yuri in his preferred section. 

The same thing went just as well with all the boy’s other coaches. Ballet and taekwondo were only taken to help Yuri improve in his main focus, figure skating, so he wasn’t even doing any competition in those sports. Just like the blond’s skating coach, his two other teachers assured Nikolai that, at the boy’s seriousness in the sport, putting him in the male role and pairing him with other boys absolutely shouldn’t be a problem. In short, all of Yuri’s trainers had demonstrated a surprising acceptance, which had been much appreciated.

Three weeks later, Alexei walked back in the living room with a package in his hands. The boy had gone to go check the mail, but usually he would only come back with government and bank letters for his grandpa. The only package that had been ordered to Nikolai’s address recently had been…

-Yuka, it’s for you, the dark haired boy said, before throwing the brown envelope at his brother, who had been sitting on the couch, doing some homework. Yuri catched it skillfully, and didn’t waste a second. Completely forgetting the math equations, the boy quickly opened the package, basically ripping it in half, and took out its content.

A light beige tank top had been pulled out.

The precious binder had finally arrived.

Yuri ran out of the room, before shutting the bathroom’s door rather violently, loudly, to say the least, out of excitement, Nikolai was sure. A minute later, he was coming out, his shirt still forgotten on the tile floor behind him.

Hot tears were running down his eyes. Happy tears.

-I’m flat, Yuri mumbled, before letting out a small chuckle, his lips stretched widely, his face seemingly about to rip in two.

Alexei and Nikolai, who had been waiting behind the door, immediately engulfed the young boy in a tight, warm embrace. 

Things weren't perfect, of course, but they were on the right path. Step by step, Yuri would get the gap between him and his goal to shrink, slowly, but surely.

And he would always have his brother and grandpa by his side, ready to catch him when he would fall, to give him support when walking would get too hard for him to do alone, to keep him company in the lonely adventure.


	4. To see

Alexei had ran away.

Again.

At least, Nikolai told himself as he slowly drove through the dark streets, snow gradually piling up on his old car’s hood, it had been a while since the boy had last disappeared. Two months and two weeks, to be precise. Comparing it to the last few times the, much unpleasant, situation, had happened, it was a pretty good, impressive, time gap.

But, at the end of the day, Alexei had still snapped, once more.

The boy always had demonstrated a tendency to run away from his problem, to hide away when the world would become too much for him to support. Ever since he had been young, he would simply ignore what made him sad, or angry, or simply unhappy, opting instead, to go sit as far as possible from the reason behind his emotions instead of fighting and shouting like Yuri did.

As they had grown older, both boys’ ways of dealing with anger had changed, but still had stayed the same, at the root of it. And it wasn’t exactly for the best.

Yuri’s screams and whines had evolved into shouted insults, and his squirming and scratching, into powerful, bruises giving punches and kicks. His anger issues had somehow become worse over the years, minor inconvenients making his insides boile. Luckily, he had also learned to control his impulses better than he did when he was five years old, waiting after whatever arguments he had been in to punch the nearest wall he could find, most of the time. It wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement from when Yuri had been ten and eleven, when he would get into physical fights almost every week. For now, Nikolai was satisfied with the new way Yuri had found to let out his anger.

Alexei, on the other hand, had never been as expressive as his brother. Even when he was younger, his voice, which he didn’t use as much as Yuri did, was almost emotionless for one of a toddler, and his difficulties when speaking, sure weren’t helping. His feelings would, almost, only be displayed through face expressions and body language. But, the older the boy got, the less he would let those two things display his feelings, up until it was to the point where he simply seemed neutral, almost all the time. A blank expression was the only thing his face seemed able to show. Of course, Nikolai could easily pick up the little things, like the way his shoulders tensed when he was uncomfortable, or the small nose scrunch he did when he didn’t like a situation. But still, Alexei had slowly raised an emotionless mask in front of him, and his grandpa wasn’t sure why.

However, that didn’t mean the boy didn’t feel anything. Quite the contrary, Nikolai was almost sure that, in front of the same situation, the twins felt the exact same way. Only, like said before, they acted on these feelings in very different ways. Where Yuri would get furious and violent, Alexei kept everything inside, bottled up inside his head and heart.

From times to times, Nikolai would overhear conversations between the two twins, where the older one would tell his brother how he had felt during the day. He would tell him he had been feeling down that afternoon, because he had almost failed his math test, or that he had been very excited, because he was soon going to have a practice match between his hockey team and another one. However, he never displayed these emotions.

And he needed to let them go, one way or an over.

So, when they were about to burst, he ran.

Nikolai had no idea where exactly the boy went whenever he was running away, or what he was doing. But, everytime, Alexei would come back, either going back home on his own, or standing on the sidewalk for his grandpa to find him. He never hid for more than a day, and rarely spent the night still outside. When he would come back, he more often than not had tears marks running down both his cheeks, small bruises from unknown reasons, and a tired look on his face. 

No, actually. Not tired. Exhausted. Exhausted from his pent up emotions finally coming up, all at once. Exhausted from school. Exhausted from his mother. Exhausted from having to deal with the entire world. Exhausted from everything.

Exhausted from life.

It was now past eleven, and there still wasn’t any sign from the missing boy. Nikolai was still roaming the streets, driving his old car slowly in the thick, blinding, early December snow that was falling from the sky. He had yet to spot the dark, cheekbone long hair, the tall and awkward stature, the green eyes of his grandson. Viktor was doing the same on his side, and Yuri was waiting back at home, to notify them both if Alexei went back directly, and to attend and take care of his brother if he did so.

This wasn't the first time they were doing this. 

The first time Alexei had ran away had been almost two years before.

Nikolai would say it had been the scariest night of his life, but in truth, every single time was just as terrifying. Not knowing where the boy was, wondering if he had gotten lost. What if he had gotten jumped, what if he was unconscious, what if he had been kidnapped. What if. Thinking about it made Nikolai feel fifty years older, completely useless, out of control.

It had been four days after Christmas. The twins were at home, back in Moscow, since their mother had finally taken some days off work. The holidays were the only moments she did so, every year. Christmas eve was spent with the twins’ grandpa too, while the actual celebration day was only between the children and their mother, as well as the few days that followed it. Nikolai would then go back to Saint-Petersburg, waiting to go pick the boys up when Feodora had to go back to work.

While he had been over, Nikolai hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Everything had been the same as it had been every year prior. After the meal, the children and their grandpa exchanged gifts, and then they simply talked, up until midnight, when they wished each other a merry Christmas, before they all went to bed, Nikolai sleeping in one of the numerous guest rooms in his daughter’s house. The next day, early in the morning, the older man took the wheel to go back to his, now, own city. 

The twins had maybe been a little more distant towards Feodora that year. However, it wasn’t so surprising. She had always been very detached when it came to her sons, and it had only increased as they had grown up. So, such behavior was, sadly, expected from the twins. They were both right at the beginning of the process of finding themselves, to develop who they wanted to be, and a cold and distant parent wasn’t the most welcomed to participate in the changes and discoveries.

But, everything else had felt just the same. Both kids had enjoyed the diner, had opened their present energetically, and had chatted just the normal amount for both of them. 

Four days later, Nikolai had suddenly been called by a panicked sounding Yuri. 

He hadn’t even had the time to ask who was calling, before the young boy had started to vomit a series of incomprehensible words and sounds. It had gone on for about ten seconds before the man had stopped his grandson.

-Calm down, Yurochka. I can’t understand what you’re saying, Nikolai had interrupted firmly, frowning. It had to be something very serious to bring Yuri into that state. He had heard the young boy breath in and out through the phone, before he had repeated what he had just said, panic still heavy in his voice.

-Yoka ran away. I don’t know where he is.

Oh.

Nikolai had ran to his car, keeping the young boy on the phone, doing his best to calm him down. Blessed with a most needed chance, he had been able to get a seat in the next flight in the direction of Moscow, but it would still at least take the man two hours to get to him. Just like the car ride he had just taken from his house to the airport, the flight had passed in a blur, too long in Nikolai’s taste, too short to calm himself down even a little bit. By the time the plane landed, the man had been ready to explode. He had just too many questions, to many worries, to many unbearable thoughts. Why did Alexei run away? Where was he now? Was he safe? 

Almost running out of the airport, Nikolai had entered one of the many taxis that had been waiting near the building’s entrance. Practically throwing some bills at the chauffeur, he had almost shouted Feodora’s address, impatient, nervous, certainly looking crazy to the person behind the wheel.

As soon as he had opened the door of the taxi, that had successfully made its way to where it had needed to be, Yuri had thrown himself into his arms, shaking uncontrollably, eyes wide with fear and panic. The hours he had spent presumably alone had done nothing to calm the boy down. If Nikolai had had to take a guess, the boy’s state had actually worsened from when he had called his grandpa.

-We need to go find him, the blond had announced, immediately, still holding on his grandpa like his life depended on it. Nikolai had nodded, agreeing, and had led him inside trying to keep a calm facade for his grandson’s benefit. His mind racing like it had never had before, the old man had Yuri seat on one of his mother’s expensive couches, putting both hands on the boy’s shoulders as he announced, doing his best to sound cool and collected.

-You’ll be waiting here. Your brother might come back, and I don’t want him to be alone if he does. Yuri had opened his mouth to argue, clearly wishing to go back to searching for his brother, something Nikolai could guess he had been doing from the flush of his pale cheeks, and from the big, winter coat he was still wearing. But the boy had been shutted up before even uttering a word. In this kind of situation, there was no place to argue with his grandpa. Later, he had said he was grateful for listening, for once.

As he had walked back outside, Nikolai took a moment to think about the situation. Now that he had been assured Yuri had been safe and sound, he had needed to figure out where to find the missing boy. The ice rink had been out of question. Even if the boy had brought his skates with him for the holidays, and absolutely loved skating, he also had hated crowds just as much, and at this time of the day, at this time of the year, the place had been sure to be full. Parks had been a much better bet, since the boy had always seemed to finish in one of them every time he went out to take a breather. He had also had to check the alleys, since Alexei had prefered them when he took walks or went on a run, over the big, main streets. Or maybe a library? The kid sure had loved science related books, and had used them often to distract him when it was needed. Or, maybe…

The endless cycle had only broken a few minutes later, when Nikolai had realised how long he had been standing there, overthinking while he could have been searching for his missing grandson. He had mentally slapped himself for wasting such precious time as had prepared to walk away.

But he hadn't.

Coming out of a small street attached to the bigger one where Feodora’s house stood, previously hidden by the conifer bushes, had been Alexei.

He had been found. He had come back. He had been safe.

Even if, interiorly, Nikolai had been feeling like crying out loud, in relief, he had simply stood there, unsure of what to do, on how to act. Yuri, who had run out of the house at the same time that his grandpa had taken notice of the boy, had already been glued to his brother, squeezing him in a relieved, lung breaking embrace.

He had been fine.

After a good moment, Yuri had let go of his brother, holding his hand, like to prevent him from disappearing again. He had slowly, but surely, walked the taller boy up to the house, soonly followed by his grandpa, who had shutted the door behind them. Both twins had sat on the same couch that Nikolai had left Yuri on, the blond facing the black haired, who had been looking down at his jointed fingers.

Nikolai had waited ten minutes before speaking up, ten minutes where Alexei hadn’t moved an inch and a pin being dropped could have been heard. His voice, shaking slightly by all the overwhelming emotions, had been soft, and low. The last thing the older man had wished had been pushing Alexei too far. He would let him go in his own step, with his own rhythmic.

-Are you hurt? He had asked, just, for starters. At first, the boy in front of him hadn't reacted what so ever. But, after a few seconds, he had shaken his head in a negative answer. From the way he had been sitting and holding himself, Nikolai had assumed the boy had said the truth. Also, Alexei, just like his twin, never lied. He kept silent to avoid confrontation, yes, but never said a lie, and that since his very childhood.

Nikolai had waited another moment, before continuing.

-Are you hungry?

The man hadn’t really thought through it before asking the question, but it had been a good one. Food was a big part of Nikolai’s love language, and it had been his most successful comforting gesture. Alexei, then again, hadn’t replied for a bit, before shaking his head silently, that once, positively.

So, his grandpa had quietly stood up, to make some, most needed, piroshkis.

In the end, Alexei hadn’t said a single word about anything to Nikolai. Not a clue about why he had run away. Not a thing about where he had gone to, or why he had come back. Not a hint about how he had taken the risky decision. Nikolai could assume a few things, like that he had chosen to walk in the smaller streets to get back, paralel from the bigger ones Nikolai had taken to get from the airport to the twins’ address, otherwise, his grandpa would have seen him while getting there. Or that he had known from the very start that he would be outside, in the cold, for a while, from the big coat he had been wearing, along with the beanie and the chunky, warm snow boots.

But that had been it. The boy wouldn’t say anything about his fugue, not that time nor all the other ones, following it, when the twins had been back in Saint-Petersburg. When he had stopped going back home only two hours after disappearing, and Nikolai had had to call Viktor to help him search the boy, he wouldn’t tell them where he had been or what he had been doing all that time. Almost everything surrounding the events was a complete mystery.

It had been seven hours since Nikolai had begun searching for Alexei, and he was starting to get seriously worried. Of course, he had been stressed out the moment he had realised his grandson was nowhere to be found, but it was now getting even worse. The sun had disappeared a long time ago, leaving the sky completely dark with big snow clouds. The boy had only stayed hidden that long two times before, both times in the middle of summer, when the nights had been almost warm.

If he stayed out in that temperature, however…

The man shook his head furiously, refusing to give in his fear. He continued his searching, looking everywhere, squinting his eyes to see in the dark streets around him.

Forty minutes later, Nikolai got a call. Without taking the time to pull over or even to stop the car, the older man jumped on his phone, his eyes catching the name on the screen quickly before he answered it, hope filling his old heart rapidly, dangerously. It was Viktor calling. He didn’t even have the time to greet the skater before being told everything he had needed to know at the moment.

-I found Lyoshenka. We're heading to your’s right now.

Nikolai thanked the younger man briefly before ending the call, fingers shaking. No longer able to, and no longer having any reason not to, he cried out, letting all his overwhelming emotions out. His grandson was safe. He was with Viktor. Everything was going to be okay.

Nikolai stayed like that for a short moment, head resting on his gloved hands, that were tight around the wheel, before heading back home. He had piroshkis to make.

-Yoka will tell you why he is running away all the time.

Nikolai turned away from the pork he had been preparing to look at Yuri, who had been the one to utter the words. To say the man was surprised was an understanding. Alexei’s fugues were numerous, and happened almost regularly, but this was a first. Yuri had always kept silent about the reasons behind everything that happened. Viktor, who had been standing near the kitchen’s door, looked utterly shocked. Such an announcement from the blond meant that the twins must have had a big, serious discussion about the touchy subject, before that night.

Nikolai, however, kept silent, simply nodding as an acknowledgment of the words just said. Everyone waited for Alexei to speak up, something he did only a minute later.

-I don’t like talking with Mother.

And that was it. No more words were said from the boy. Some part of Nikolai thought that, such affirmation didn’t make any sense. How was it even related? The boy didn’t actually meet up with his mother more than once a year, only for a few days. But, at the same time, the woman did call him from time to times, and would, more often than not, ask to speak with her children, without her father being present.

The older man waited a moment, before speaking up. He didn’t want to force the boy or to push him into saying things when he didn’t wish to, but he would try to guide him, to help him say, well, what he wanted to tell. He took his softest, must calming voice as he did so.

-And why don’t you like talking with your mother? Alexei looked up, his green eyes tired, red from previous crying he must have done while still outside. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. The boy turned to look at his younger brother, who was standing beside him. Yuri nodded in positive, and Alexei started.

He started and he didn’t stop.

-I don’t like how Mother has started treating Yuka and me whenever she calls or sees us. She won’t let us eat certain things or a certain amount when we’re back in Moscow, and she always makes mean comments about our appearances. She insults Yuka for looking masculine, and forces him to wear things he doesn't want to, and to act a certain way, too. And she always says that she hates how I look, because I look like our father. But, she says that we have to do better. In skating, in hockey, in school, in being who we were meant to be. She says, she never should have let us get pastimes, because now she either has to take us out of them, or to force us to make them something worth it. And that she should have hired a babysitter before, because now we're good for nothing, spoiled little brats. And if we complain even once or don’t get better, she will stop paying for our lessons and materials, and that then, we’ll have to dropout and focus on what’s actually important. She say that we’re lost causes, that I’m too dumb for anything, and that Yuka won’t be respected anywhere. So we have to work hard, harder than ever, because she doesn’t want us to go to waste, to waste her money and ourselves with dumb sports that lead to nothing. And she never helps us with anything, and never want to see us for anything unless she comes to us first, or talk if she doesn’t talk first. And even then, we have to be asked a question first. She says that’s so we know how to behave once we're in the real world. And…

Alexei stopped, before continuing, voice even lower than it had been before, even more emotionless than ever before.

-She wish she never had met our father, so we wouldn’t exist. 

He hesitated, like he was going to say something forbidden, something no one had heard before.

-But now that we’re here, we need to not be useless. We know that, but she really insist on it.


	5. To do what is necessary

After what Alexei had said that unforgettable night, it was clear for Nikolai that he couldn’t let the children go back under their mother’s roof, or even, let her see them ever again. 

The man hadn’t wasted any time. He had already let his own daughter abuse her sons right under his nose for way too long. He should have noticed it sooner. He should have asked the first time Alexei had ran away. No, he should have made sure everything had been okay between the twins and their mother before any of that had happened. He should have noticed something had been wrong. Or, actually, he should have stopped blinding himself. 

He had known something had been wrong all along, now he realised. Everytime the twins gave back his phone after their mother had called, something had been wrong. Everytime they would come back after the holidays, something had been wrong. Everytime they hadn’t won a match or a competition, looking like it was the end of the world, it had been because it had truly felt like that for them, because they knew what was awaiting them back home. But he had tried to ignore it, all this time, because he didn’t want to believe his daughter was abusing his grandsons, didn’t want to see it, to think about it, because Feodora was his child, who he had raised, loved, protected.

In short, Nikolai had failed. He had been unable to protect his grandsons, and it was all his fault.

But that fact only made the man’s resolve stronger. If he had been weak all these years, he would now do everything in his power so that the twins didn’t have to endure anymore hardships like these, from their mother. And the faster he did all the necessary steps, the better.

And that’s what he did. After a most needed meal, Nikolai sent both children to bed, in their shared bedroom upstairs. The two of them were obviously, painfully, exhausted, from what the old man imagined was a mixture of the intense training that had been going on the whole previous week, that evening’s particularly strong emotional moment, and, just the fact that the clock was close to ringing three o’clock in the morning.

Viktor, who had stayed throughout the whole thing, helping Nikolai with the diner to the best of his lacking capacities, and providing moral support whenever he could, had also asked to stay the night. The small house didn’t have any free, spare beds for him to claim, but the skater, stubbornly, had stated that he could simply sleep on the worn out couch in the living room. In any other situation, Nikolai would have refused such an arrangement, and kicked out the younger man for him to go back to his own apartment, only a few streets away. But this was no normal situation, and Nikolai understood very well how Viktor felt.

The skater had known the twins for almost as long as Nikolai had. He had helped Alexei with his schoolwork more than once, he had teached Yuri most things the blond knew about figure skating. He had helped out Nikolai with babysitting everytime it had been needed and possible, never missing an opportunity to annoy the twins and give a hand to the older man. He had been present for the oldest first ever goal, and had been there to watch the youngest’s first axel, by his request. He had attended most of the twins’ competitions, only missing when he, himself, had one. Apart from Nikolai, of course, Viktor was the person most close to the twins. 

Over the past few years, as the skater had gotten older, his, at first, brotherly affection for the kids had slowly turned into an almost fatherly love. And, even if both of them would have firmly, strongly denied it, Nikolai knew that the twins affectionate, adored, loved Viktor just as much.

So, the older man had let him stay the night, indicating to him where the extra comforters and pillows were stored, piled on shelves in a wardrobe encased in the living room’s wall.

Now, the day after, Nikolai was in front of his daughter’s door, waiting for her to open so that they could have a talk. A most needed, most definitive talk. 

The twins were waiting in the car, with Viktor, parked in the street. Nikolai had stopped the old vehicle in a place where he had made sure the kids wouldn’t be able to see the two adults talking, and the woman wouldn't be able to spot them. If he had gotten the choice, the older man wouldn't have brought the two of them along with him. He would have let them at home with Viktor to watch them and make sure they were okay and safe. 

But, his plan needed the twins to be present, or at least close, when he talked to Feodora. Indeed, the man wanted to take the kids out of the house, out of their mother’s influence. However, some of their things were still in their rooms, in said house, under said mother’s watch. So, Nikolai needed the kids to be there when he finished the discussion and arrangements with Feodora, so that they could pick everything up as quickly as possible. 

Everything had been thought out. Nikolai had borrowed his neighbor’s trailer, to make sure everything could be moved out at once. He had picked up some old, dusty, unused cardboard boxes to pack up everything.He had even already called both of the kids coaches, to announce neither of them would be present for the afternoon's practice. Luckily, nothing too important was happening in neither hockey or figure skating that day, and, by coincidence, it was one of those days when Alexei didn’t have lacrosse nor soccer in the morning, and Yuri’s ballet teacher had called in sick for the week four days before. 

Now, all that was left was to convince Feodora that the twins would be better off staying with their grandpa full time, never seeing her again. At first, Nikolai had thought the task would be easy, as, in his mind, Feodora couldn’t have cared less where her children were. Her kids already were seven hours of road away from her almost all year long, the only communication between them being some weekly, short face calls. But, the more deeply he thought about it, the less the man was sure about anything. His daughter had been proven to be completely out of the character Nikolai had assigned her for all those years. Maybe she didn’t care much about her children's whereabouts, but she apparently was obsessed with the reputation the twins brought upon the family’s name.

And Nikolai wasn’t going to lie to her. He wasn’t going to act as if the twins definitely moving out had been a clever idea to let her work in peace, even during the holidays. He wasn’t going to tell her the only thought process had been that he was getting tired of going from Saint-Petersburg to Moscow back and forth every year. No. He was going to tell only the truth, and nothing but the truth. He was going to expose her for the years of mental abuse she had put her own sons under. He was going to say he was taking the twins away for their own well being. He was going to tell Feodora she no longer would have any influence on the boys’ lifes.

Five minutes later, no one had yet to answer the door.

Nikolai had rung the bell several times, but no reaction had occurred. No sounds of door opening, no noises of stairs being descended, no indoors lights lighting up. Nothing. And it was nine in the evening, an hour during which the older man knew very well his daughter didn’t work, and had left her office a long time ago. Her light grey, tinted windows, expensive car was in the house's parking lot, a big give away that she wasn’t at work.

But her being out was the only plausible situation. The lack of reaction from inside the house, and the initial nothingness of living signs coming from the building, would have been simply improbable in the situation where Feodora was still home. So, the woman must have been out, most likely with someone else to accompany her, too, given that her car was still in its place, as mentioned before.

Nikolai was running out of patience. There still wasn’t any life sign coming from inside the huge, two stories house, and the man had no idea where the woman supposed to be present inside actually was.

So, after a long, freezing ten minutes spent outside the front door, in the cold of the winter’s morning, Nikolai made up his mind, and moved on to plan B.

He took out the house’s keys, which he had been given by Alexei beforehand, from his jacket’s pocket, and opened the door in a quick movement.

The place, as expected, was completely dark. But even once he had opened up the entrance’s light, the atmosphere could only be described as authoritarian, as if an unperceivable entity was watching everything and everyone in the house, like making sure everything was perfect, nothing was out of place and everyone stayed on the line it had drawn and deemed as the only acceptable thing to follow. Maybe the impression came from the decor, light painted walls decorated by neutral colored paintings, paired with dark wood furniture, in what seemed to be an expensive, minimalistic approach. Or maybe was it caused by the almost abnormal amount of mirrors, placed on the sideboard, hanging on the walls, next to the paintings, next to the flat screened television. Or maybe was it simply the remains of Feodora’s presence haunting the place. 

Nikolai never had considered himself spiritual. Yes, he was religious, having been raised as orthodox catholic from birth. He had been baptised, had done all needed celebrations in his youth, and still went to church every other Sunday, the only exceptions being when one of his grandsons had a competition at the same time. He believed in God, angels, and the Devil. But he wasn’t spiritual. Ghost had always only been stories in his mind, ever since he had grown up out of his very childhood. Witchy sounding things like aura weren't something he believed in.

But, in that windy, freezing winter morning, Nikolai catched himself thinking that was what he was feeling on his wrinkled skin, in his bones, in his spirit. An evil presence, trying to infiltrate his head, trying to take control over him.

Or maybe Nikolai was simply being overdramatic. 

Was the house somehow a bit threatening? Yes, it was. But he needed to take a moment to rationalise, to stop acting as if it was the ogre’s manor, as if he would be cursed everytime he took a step on the hardwood, dark floors. His daughter may be an abusive parent and a toxic person to be around, but there simply was no way she had developed some sort of evil power over time. Because that simply was, impossible.

Going back outside, in the chilly air, Nikolai descended the steps leading to the front door, to signal to the boys still in the car that the path was clear, and that they could come out, which is exactly what they did, taking out the folded cardboard boxes with them.

The four men, young and old, had started packing up the two room’s content half an hour ago.

They were nowhere near finishing.

Such complications had been thought about, of course. Everyone involved knew very well that, normally, moving out like that was a process that was planned months before, and started weeks before too. And here they were, four individuals, trying to achieve all that work in less than a few hours, as quickly as possible.

It also didn’t help that, all three of Nikolai’s younger companions were complete and utter idiots.

When they had first entered the house, Viktor had automatically forced a smile, one that shared a lot of similarities with the one he put on when he got overwhelmed with fans and reporters after one of his competitions. Alexei had like shrunk on himself, hunching his back forward to make himself seem as small and invisible as possible. At the same moment, he had moved himself in an effective way to hide his younger brother from the rest of the house, in a protective, instinctual manner. Yuri’s hand had almost flown to the boy’s blond hair, twisting the locks between his pale fingers in a nervous and frantic manner, as his face had contorsioned in an angry, but fearful frown. All of them had also sported tense shoulders, so tense they most likely would complain about back pains the following day. In short, all three boys had been visibly uncomfortable the moment they had set foot past the door’s frame.

But, only ten minutes later, all the anxiety and afterthoughts had been long forgotten. Indeed, they all couldn’t have looked more carefree and relaxed than how they did at the moment. And if Nikolai could appreciate the fact that nobody felt threatened or endangered anymore, such mentality absolutely didn’t help for the efficiency, of their packing up job.

And to top it off, even if they had been living almost all year long with their grandpa for a few years, both twins had forgotten or simply had not brought a lot of stuff along with them when they had first partially moved out. Therefore, their rooms revealed themselves to have some extreme distracting potential.

All special items were, at first glance, unnoticeable, because, as Alexei had explained while pulling out the other part of his old plush toys collection, souvenir from his younger days, from in between one of his nightstand and his bed, their mother was very strict with what they were allowed to possess. So, to keep their belongings safe from the woman’s judgemental, sharp, eyes, they had both learned to store them where they couldn’t be seen from the door frame. Because Feodora never went farther than that point into her sons’ rooms. Only the appearances were important.

That being said, as soon as they had gone through the superficial belongings, like forgotten clothes, books, and medals, which still had taken a long time to pack up, Viktor had switched places with Nikolai.

The twins had separate rooms, so, to be more efficient, both men had gone different ways, to help out a different kid each. At first, Viktor had gone to give a hand to Yuri, while Nikolai did the same with Alexei. But, once the twins had both started to take out uncalled for belongings from unexpected places in their room, the skater had requested to change places with the older man. His reasoning had been, because Lyoshenka’s uncalled for belongings were just, more uncalled for than Yurochka’s. 

And it was absolutely, totally, true.

Even if Yuri had some pretty interesting things to pull out from under his bed and between his clothes, his wide, messily organised collection of coins being a good example, Alexei simply had a larger amount of very much more intriguing things hidden in his room. And, if lucky enough, there sometimes was a story to go with the pieces. 

Of course, Viktor had heard about the boy’s treasures before, but it was his very first time seeing any of it. Being in awe in front of such unexpected, strange finds was so normal that Nikolai gave his place to the silver haired man without asking much questions. However, he did warn the two boys before leaving to go help his other grandson, that their priority was to pack everything up, and that they would have all the time in the world to talk about each item once they would be back home.

As expected, neither of them, thirteen years old kid or twenty five years old adult, listened to his warning.

And that is how Viktor got to listen to, for the first time, the tales of how Alexei had become owner of some of his, very, strange items. Like how he had found one of his most old looking plush toys in a small lake, situated in a park he didn’t remember the name of, or the town it could be found, while he was looking for small frogs to pet. And how he had taken an almost complete rat’s skeleton from a parking lot once, which was now conserved in a glass jelly jar, that had actually also been picked up from said parking lot. Or how he had gotten custody of the most rusty, most untrustworthy piece of metal any of the men present had seen in their lives. However, most objects in Alexei’s room, like his set of two completely discolored Yu-Gi-Oh cards, or his susceptible looking bright green, somehow slack, golf ball, the boy had no idea where they came from. 

One hour later, one hour and a little bit over a half after they had entered the house, Nikolai heard the front door opening.

The man cursed at himself, under his breath. He should have been more careful.

After a while spent inside the building, both the twins and Viktor had gotten pretty comfortable. After finding Yuri’s lost speaker, the younger boys had started playing some music, which had been an experience, to say the least. Even after hearing both the twins’s favorite songs many times over, Nikolai still couldn't help but interiorly grit his teeth every time he had to listen to the music. Of course, he still did his best to be supportive, simply adding his own favorite songs to the queue every time he had the chance, but the mismatched, new generation songs just weren’t of his own taste. Viktor always seemed to love the weird combination, though.

Even with all the time that had been lost, spent doing unproductive things like cooing over old photos and medals, the four of them had mostly finished moving everything out. All that was left to do was to bring the remaining boxes to the car outside. Some items were still left untouched, like the beds or some heavy looking books, but the twins had specified that they didn’t wish to bring them back home. They didn’t care much about the comforters or pillows, and the other things had been bought by their mother in an effort to mold them into what she wanted them to be. Nothing they wanted to remember, or keep with them.

In short, the four of them had almost completed their task.

But now, they had to face Feodora, face her wrath and her manipulating personality.

Upon hearing the unexpected sound produced by the front door, Yuri had frozen, eyes wide in terror, lips slightly apart. Silently, quickly, he moved from his previous place, in his room’s entrance, to hide behind his grandpa, shaking slightly. It was clear that the first thing Nikolai needed to do now was to have the twins go back to the car, away from their mother, hidden from her. Then, Nikolai could have a nice, long chat with the woman. 

The man looked at the boxes that were still on the floor, waiting to be picked up. There only were two left, and, according to the quick letters of Yuri’s handwriting, they both were filled with trophies and books. One of them alone wouldn’t have been a problem, but the old man doubted the young boy would be able to carry both boxes, without any problem along the way. But Nikolai had to act quickly. He didn’t have time to worry about little things like that. 

He silently told the boy to follow him, before picking up the boxes with a little difficulty, but nothing he couldn't manage. Then, he swiftly walked out of the room, Yuri following close behind him. In Alexei’s room, the situation wasn’t looking any better. The dark haired boy was like stuck into place, eyes filled with panic, looking as if he only wished to jump out the window, and run away, run all the way back to Saint-Petersburg. Viktor, on his part, truly seemed lost, frantically looking around the room, like instructions on what to do were to appear suddenly, written somewhere on the floor, or on the wall. 

They, too, only had two boxes left to carry out the house. With a quick look, Nikolai learned that they both carried plush toys. Those were way lighter than Yuri’s, so the old man settled them down, indicating Alexei to take them, and Yuri to take his brother’s. Nikolai knew Alexei could manage to lift both the heavy boxes all the way up to the car with ease. Yuri wasn’t not in shape, quite the contrary, but his brother simply had been blessed with a body proner to gain physical strength over time, and a passion for a sport that practiced upper body and arms’ muscles more than figure skating did. Over the years, due to their very different bodies, and their different sports, the twins had developed some different skills, Alexei being strong where Yuri was flexible, as an example. 

Indicating to the younger trio to follow him, Nikolai walked out the room, in direction of the stair, silently, but not going out of his way to be unnoticeable. Feodora certainly had recognised his car in front of her house upon coming back anyways, there was no way she didn’t know he was there.

The four of them made their way down the staircase without any trouble or obstacle. But, expectedly, said obstacle was waiting for them in the lobby, standing straight, hands together, laying on her suit’s skirt. Eyes sharp. Visibly in a fury. 

Nikolai walked out of the house, heading straight to his car. Rather violently, he opened the door, and plumped in his seat, fingers closing firmly on the wheel. The man took a second to calm down, relaxing his furrowed eyebrows and forcing his mouth to stop its previous contorsioning. Only when he was sure he wouldn’t look like a mass murder, or someone about to become one, did he turned to face the two boys seated in the back seats.

I’m only making sure they don't cause more trouble than they already did, she had said.

The kids seemed worried, staring at their grandpa with anticipation. Questions were practically coming out of their ears, unable to do so through their mouths, that were shut closely, as if uttering a word would have meant the shattering of what was in front of them. 

Nikolai hesitated. The twins, the old man saw, looking closer, with more attention, were in a state of semi panic, shoulders tense, eyes wide, one not moving an inch and the other unsuccessfully trying to hide behind his too short blond hair. Even Viktor, who usually was a reliable support, lighting up the mood whenever appropriate, now seemed ready to fight, to explode, to beat an unnamed lady, ungrateful, unworthy mother to the pulp. 

They were too sensitive to be successful in the world, she had told him.

He was the oldest, Nikolai reminded himself. He was the mature one, the one the three others could always rely on, could always consider a pillar, could always ask him to hold them when the world became too heavy for them to bear alone. And he was going to take his role seriously, even more now that it was oh so needed. 

So, after taking one last, big breath to make sure he wouldn’t lose his cool, he smiled at his two grandsons, before turning to start the car, still looking at them through the mirror.

-It’s alright. It’s finished. We’re going back home.

The children visibly relaxed, shoulders falling down, both letting out breaths, Nikolai wasn't sure for how long they had been holding in.They turned to look at each other, before giving each other a small, but meaningful smile. They finally were out of their mother’s house.

They were only kids, he had argued.

Viktor, however, still looked more tense than ever seen before. Nikolai quickly pushed on the gas pedal, making sure the young man wouldn’t have the required time to jump out of the vehicle, in an attempt to, imagining the worse, commit murder toward Feodora. Nikolai wasn’t exactly sure how he would feel if his daughter died, even more in such circumstances, but he did know that Viktor committing such felonies would break his and the twins’ hearts.

And she hated those kids, she had screamed. Still, she had raised them up, given them food and shelter. 

Behind him, through the mirror, the old man saw the big, overly expensive two story house shrink gradually, along with the car of what he could assume was Feodora’s secret date. And, he now could truly sense it inside his heart, the feelings, his emotions he once had directed towards his daughter.

They could at least repay her by doing something useful with their lives, she had said.

A little more than seven hours later, the four men finally were back in Saint-Petersburg, back home, back where they would now stay all year long.

During said seven hours, a lot had happened. Nikolai’s emotions had changed, shifted and switched with each other more times than one could count, leaving the poor man in a complete and utter confusion. In contrast to what he had told himself when he had first left Moscow, he had, midway through, no idea how he had felt about the whole situation, or how he had actually been supposed to feel. He did know he didn’t regret any of the decisions he had made along the way, and that every single one of them had turned out to be for the best. But, Feodora still was his daughter. His blood, his love, his child. He, of course, was angry, no, furious, at her. She had done some unforgivable things, taken some forbidden choices. But, no matter how hard he tried, her dad simply couldn’t truly hate her. And he doubted he would ever be able to.

When it came to Viktor, his once murderous, dangerous, gaze had shifted to an almost carefree, cheerful one somewhere along the way. At first, it had visibly been forced, surely to lighten the gloomy mood. After an hour or so, though, it had started to feel pretty natural, which either meant that Viktor had magically improved his acting skills without Nikolai noticing, or that the skater had gotten over his previous rage towards the twins’ mother, at least, for the time being.

As for the Yuri and Alexei, the road had been a full on rollercoaster, equally on both sides. Yuri had gone from being uncharastically quiet, to holding back what seemed to be angry tears, to full on asking his grandpa to stop the car so that he could go scream all his anger and frustration out. After that, though, the boy had slowly but surely calmed down, up until the point where he was arguing with Viktor over some uninteresting matter, something like whether older or newer cartoons were the best.

And finally, Alexei had, him too, been completely quiet for the first hour of the road. Since it had been him, though, it hadn’t concerning at all. After a moment, the young boy had gradually started thrashing his emotions out, punching his own palm with his other hand, restlessly moving his leg up and down, passing his hands in his hair every so often, in a mechanical manner. When Yuri had walked out the car to scream out at the sky and world, he had, him too, gotten out the vehicle, to jump in place, flail his arms around and scream his heart out too, less than his brother, but still pretty loudly, the two boys attracting the indignated looks of the strangers walking past the little alley they had claimed their own. The two of them had gone on and on for a few minutes, in something that looked like an attempt to spend as much energy as possible. It had worked, too, as when they had sat back in their places, they had both fallen asleep for a good hour and a half, using each other as support, Yuri’s head on Alexei’s shoulder, and the taller one’s head on the smaller one’s.

After his small nap, Alexei had stopped thrashing around, and his mood had improved for the better. After a minute, he had also joined Viktor and Yuri’s argument, backing up his brother, cornering the older skater two on one. 

In short, even if the air had been tense at first, the last few hours had gone surprisingly well, everyone somehow enjoying themselves. And Nikolai, in the end of seven hours of exhausting and frustrating self-obliged mental torment, had finally come to a conclusion.

Everything was going to be okay.

Viktor had assured him he would help finance the twins lessons, and everything that was needed. The old man hadn’t been sure about the whole ordeal at first, but the skater had stated the fact that being World champion three consecutive times did pay very well, and that the expenses the kids would bring him wouldn’t in any way affect his current lifestyle. And, he did add, as well, even if it was totally unnecessary, that he absolutely didn’t care about spending money when it came to the twins.

Nikolai was already in charge of the twins for pretty much everything, school, hockey, figure skating. To save time and make things less complicated, Feodora had had Nikolai register as one of the twins’ legal guardians a couple years back. No adjustments had to be made anywhere, since he was already the direct correspondent every teacher and coach communicated with when one of the kids had one or more problems. No papers to sign, no calls to make, no explanations to give to anyone.

And the twins already had been living with their grandpa for four years now. Not only that, but he had been raising them almost completely since the very day they were born. He had been the one to see them walk their first steps, he had been there for both of their first words, he had brought them to school for the first time. He had been there for their very first experience on the ice. Feodora hadn’t. 

In summary, kicking their mother out of their life, would only bring positive changes into the boys’ existence.

It was for the best.


	6. To see them grow

Nikolai’s phone vibrated three short times in his jeans’ pocket, signaling an incoming text from an unknown someone. The old man finished up mincing the cabbage on the cutting board in front of him, before quickly wiping his hands on a nearby, worn out, towel, that was hanging from the oven’s handle. Only then, did he pick up his mobile device. A retired man like himself deserved to take his time, especially when it came to the certainly unimportant things that the message must contain. Both twins and Viktor knew full well to make a phone call if it was an urgent matter.

“Grandpa some guy is fucking flirting with Yuka“, was what Nikolai finally got to learn after a few taps on the touch screen. Said grandpa took a moment to simply look at the glowing surface, both incredule and amused. No matter how big they got, his grandsons never stopped being almost adorably ridiculous. After a moment, he started typing back, slowly tapping the too small letters with his large, but precise, fingers.

“Is the guy being indecent?“ he sent, looking at the screen only for a small moment before closing it, returning the phone where it had originally been, in his pocket.

That year, Nikolai had stayed home for the Finals of the World Cup, because of a sudden doctor appointment, watching Yuri’s performance on live tv. Alexei, on his part, had followed the young skater to Barcelona, where the competition was held. After years of competitions and matches on both twins' parts, some habits, or maybe could they be called traditions, had been set up over time. Nikolai couldn’t always assist every single thing that was happening, for a number of reasons, especially from the moment the kids had started competitioning in larger fields. However, he would always make sure to attend, or at the very least, watch on the television, every Finals in both sports. Alexei, on the contrary, had somehow, miraculously, never missed even one of Yuri’s competitions or shows, ever since the beginning of the adventure. The very same could be said on the blond’s part, about his brother’s matches. They both had always been there, present to the event, to cheer and support their brother. And their grandpa had no clue how exactly they had managed to keep it up all those years.

So, the traditions hadn’t been broken one bit. Alexei had also made some arrangements with his coach to stay with his brother until the whole event ended, and to come back to Saint-Petersburg with the now named World’s figure skating champion. He didn’t have any matches scheduled during those days, or close afterwards, and had made the promise to continue training every single day, while he was away, keeping up his current rhythm.

Nikolai had been told by the twins, a little earlier that day, that they were attending the aftermate party together. Their grandpa wasn’t exactly sure how Alexei had gotten in, seeing as he didn’t think non-skaters were allowed to participate in the celebration. But, he also had to remind himself that not only was the boy able to get himself in the most improbable places, his brother also had just won the Senior Figure Skating World Cup, and wasn’t the type to take any kind of opposition from security guards. The two of them were like that, in fact. And, finally, Nikolai couldn’t forget the fact that Viktor, an actual grown adult, far more threatening than two fifteen years old kids, would also probably help them in their plans, too. 

Now that the man thought more deeply about it, it was not the first time such arrangements had been made. Parties like these were a recurring thing each twin attended both at least once a year. And every time, they seemed to have their way around bringing the other one inside. They must have gotten experience over time, as a necessity, as well as a natural reaction when faced with the same situation many times.

His phone once again vibrated, distracting the man from the ground beef he was cutting nimbly, in quick and experienced motions. He once again took the time to finish his current task, before once again wiping his hands on the rag.

“He isnt“ It was quick and short, with only the bare minimum being said, but enough for Nikolai to be able to depictate exactly what his grandson must have looked like. Almost completely blank, except for an almost imperceptible frown, accompanied by a just as small pout, must have been the boy’s face at that moment. 

Alexei’s protective behavior towards his younger brother hadn’t died down in any way since he had been younger. In fact, one could easily argue the uncontrolled, unconsciously taken looking, manners had actually gotten even stronger over time. But even if they had, Nikolai wasn’t having any thought to try and have Alexei stop acting that way. Throughout the years, the tall boy’s protective instincts for the smaller one had proved themselves to be more good than bad. Taking Yuri out of physical fights before it got too far. Making sure nothing in the boy’s plate contained mango, something he had started doing after they had discovered the blond was allergic to them over, very, unpleasant events. Acting as his bodyguard anytime he felt like Yuri was in any kind of danger while talking or even being close to somebody else. All these things hadn’t backfired in any way, or produced any unwanted side effects to be called bad, helping the youngest twin more than it had ever hurted him. And Yuri, even though he sometimes did complain about his brother being overprotective, had never actually pronounced a desire for him to stop, something everyone knew, he wouldn’t be afraid to do if it was the case. Thus, Nikolai simply let Alexei do as he pleased. 

“Then I think it’s alright. Yurochka is a big boy, he’s able to handle it.” he quickly typed back, telling only what he believed to be the truthest statement, before going back to the ingredients in front of him. He didn’t want to eat too late, afterall.

Grandpa. 

Nikolai heard the title being called twice, simultaneously, one voice ringing loud, full of excitement and impatience, the other much more toned down, emotionless, except for the almost imperceptible spike of found, authentic sounding happiness. A second later, the poor man was being tackled by two very heavy childrens, in a big, bone crushing, hug. His grandsons were back from Barcelona, and, apparently, had missed him a whole lot for the very short time the three of them had been apart. But, he couldn’t really make fun of them. Nikolai had, in fact, missed the two boys a whole lot, just as well.

The embrace lasted a good minute, before Nikolai decided it was enough, and forcely stepped away from the two, glued to his side, kids. Yuri almost fell to the ground, his support being pulled away from him, and Alexei’s arms had to be manually taken apart from his grandpa. The strong limbs had been wrapped dangerously, tightly around the boy’s grandpa’s neck area. The kid was getting taller everyday, and seemed so far from stopping growing.

Finally free from the two, too heavy weights, Nikolai greeted the other two men present, giving the first one a small, but warm and familiar, smile with a nod, and the second a welcoming handshake. The dark haired, Japanese man shook his hand back, smiling awkwardly as he did so.

The older man never had met the professional skater before that day. He had seen some of his performances, he had heard about him from both Yuri and Alexei, and he knew he was Japan’s top skater in his discipline. But that was about it. The chances were that the young one knew even less about Nikolai, probably had he never actually seen his face. Luckily, Viktor, took him upon himself to make the presentations, securing one hand on both men’s shoulders.

-Yuuri, this is Nikolai, Yurochka and Lyoshenka’s grandfather. You can call him Kolya. Kolya, this is Yuuri Katsuki, silver medal at the World Figure Skating Cup and the love of my life.

Well, that summarised it well enough.

After four days spent alone in the house, only having Potya, Yuri’s cat, to share the whole place with, Nikolai had somehow forgotten how lively, and exhausting, life with his grandsons was. 

He had first got a sample of such a way of living, five minutes after their heart-warming hug. Something about a young man called Otabek, who apparently had been the guy flirting with Yuri. The blond, after his brother had brought up the subject, vocalising his mecontentement about the whole situation, had strongly argued that the fellow skater had done every single thing except flirting, simply having and maintaining a normal and friendly conversation with him. Alexei had then replied back, recalling the time where he had catched them together, eating dinner face to face, like a couple, after he had come back from his daily training. Again, but maybe a little more flustered, Yuri had yelled that it was only hanging out with a friend. Unfortunately for the smaller boy, not only was Alexei not letting the argument go, holding his opinion high and tight, but Viktor was also enjoying the whole situation a little bit too much, teasing him restlessly, joining the oldest brother’s side. The argument had gone on until the five men had arrived at Nikolai's car’s level, time during which both the older man, and Yuuri had kept silent.

Then, the conversation had switched to how everyone would fit into the tiny vehicle, and how they would be too cramped and too tight in the small, confining space. To the twins’ defense, Nikolai’s old Moskvich 444 wasn’t very spacious. When Viktor had called him, the night before, announcing he was going to bring along a new party, the old man had briefly considered refusing, planning to tell the skater to walk, if he had gone through with it. But, to his chagrin, he was too kind, had a too soft heart and mind. There were five usable seats in the car, but with all the luggage the four travelers were bringing with them, plus Makkachin, Viktor’s poodle, it was sure to be a close fit. Well, Makkachin already had the habit to stay on the twins’ thighs everytime she would take a ride with them, so the dog wasn’t actually much trouble to deal with.

Luckily, all four of the younger men had packed lightly, making the whole thing a lot easier to deal with. In the end, Nikolai had all of them keep their luggage between their legs, not the best, must secure option, but the most comfortable one in the given situation. As both twins were forbidden from taking the front seat, to avoid as much unwanted bickering as their grandpa could, the kids had sat side by side in the back of the car, Yuuri, to their right, and Viktor, in the passenger seat, while Nikolai, of course, took the wheel.

The car ride had gone pretty smoothly, in the driver’s percpective. There surprisingly wasn’t too much traffic, and the unexpected number of passengers in the car revealed itself to only be a minor inconvinient. Surely because of the tiredness the trip had brought upon them, Yuri and Alexei had both fallen asleep ten minutes into the ride, and both had been almost completely silent beforehand. That had left the three adults free to do some small, quiet, talk, during which Nikolai learned more about the japanese skater. Things like how he had a poodle too, before, how he had a sister named Mari, how he had first learned to skate because of Viktor, who he had seen in competitions on tv. The young man had also told him about things Nikolai already knew about, like the fact his family owned an onsen place, that he knew a little russian, like a few small worlds, and some grammar basics, or that Yuri had once screamed at him that he was an idiot who needed to stop crying. The blond had already told his grandpa all of it, but the old man listened attentively anyways. Hearing people’s stories had always been one of Nikolai’s favorite things about life.

About twenty minutes after they had taken the road, Nikolai pulled into his driveway, stopping the car. Both Viktor and Yuuri stepped out of the vehicle, Makkachin following close after the black haired man. The only ones that were left were the twins, who were still fast asleep on the backseats, using each other as support to be more comfortable. Used to such situations, Nikolai stood out of the car, opened the backdoor and simply shook Alexei’s shoulder, as he was the one closer to the door. The sudden, rather violent movement, took both kids out of their slumber, making them groan and grimace out of mecontentement. Leaving the car door open, Nikolai turned around, heading to the inviting ambiance of his own home.

Fifteen minutes later, the twins had finally gotten out of their after-nap daze, walking into the house, which their grandpa could tell from the bickering coming from the entrance. Something about Alexei taking all the place in the small space, leaving none for Yuri to take off his coat. Nothing out of the ordinary, but still a huge contrast with the blissful silence Nikolai had been living in for the past few days. 

Unperturbed, the man continued flipping through his cooking book’s pages. Said book truly only was a binder, full of a bundle of unorganised recipes, both handwritten and printed from the internet. Everytime he wanted to cook or bake something complicated, or a new dish he hadn’t done many times in the past, Nikolai relied on the vast, full of variety, always expanding collection.

Standing next to him, Yuuri was staring in the direction of the lobby, looking unsure and nervous. The young man had almost immediately pronounced himself to help when he had seen his elder looking at different ideas for dinner. Nikolai had accepted gladfully. Help in the kitchen wasn’t something the old man always had the luck to find. Viktor, even if he tried his best everytime, wasn’t very successful in producing anything other than protein shakes and steamed vegetables. To his defense, the skater wasn’t exactly allowed to have more delicate dishes on a daily basis, and was normally way too tired after his usual hours of training to prepare complicated meals.

As for the twins, the simplest way to phrase it, was, they could manage. They weren’t chefs, that for sure, but they were talented enough to give a hand to their grandpa when it was needed. Mostly just cutting some meat and mixing pastas, but it was much appreciated. Only, by the way they had fallen asleep in the car, and the fighting that was still going on, Nikolai assumed the two of them weren’t going to be much help that evening. So, Yuuri’s eagerness to have a finger in the pie was much appreciated. Plus, to celebrate Yuri’s first place, Nikolai planned to cook something a little more sophisticated and complicated than usual.

Picking out a paper from his book, the man had now decided on what he was going to make. He rolled up his sleeves, and began to work, occasionally giving Yuuri the needed directives.

One hour later, the food was ready, and everyone was sitting around the small table, happily chatting in English, serving themselves said meal, and trying to snuck their cat on their lap, even though animals were not allowed during meals, and had never been. It was a warm, very family-like feeling situation, Yuri and Alexei to Nikolai’s right, while the older skaters were placed on his left. Quickly, everyone began eating, all looking like they enjoyed the food, much to Nikolai’s satisfaction.

In the end, the man had put his choice on a chicken stew with potatoes, accompanied with pasta, bread, and a variety of different pickled vegetables. Stews like the one he had prepared were usually something Nikolai would make for Christmas, but he had decided they were to be a great celebration meal in general. Plus, he knew Yuri liked them very much, which was always a good reason to cook a specific meal, or do pretty much anything, really. 

Alexei acted shy and enclosed around Yuuri, surely because, in contrast to his brother, he hadn’t spent any time training, or doing anything, with him. If Nikolai recalled correctly, this must have been the first time the two of them had the chance to have a proper conversation, except for the after Finals party. If the twins somehow always found a way to attend their brother’s competitions, it was rare for them to stay a long time afterwards, as they each had their own sport to practice on, for their own upcoming Cups. In such conditions, the twins had slowly started to spend less and less time with each other, in particular during their in-seasons. So, they did their very best to stay in touch no matter what, face calling eachother every single day when one was away, and texting the other every single thing that happened the moment they had a free moment. Actually, the texting was something that continued even when both twins were in Saint-Petersburg. More than one time, had Nikolai been driving one of the boys around, to have them pull out their phone and snicker at the message they had just been sent, about the other’s coach being severe, or a fellow athlete that had done something stupid. No matter how large the distance between them, their diverging schedules or, sometimes, their current argument, the kids always knew every single detail, on that was happening to the other.

That being said, it was normal for Alexei to feel unsure around Yuuri. The twins had always demonstrated a quite shy nature, and while Yuri had gotten time to get closer to the older skater, the taller one hadn’t gotten the chance to do so. Also, still in the contrast of his brother, the boy’s English wasn’t the best, and he sure wasn't any better in Japanese, which made communication even harder between the two men.

But, aside from the very minor problem, everything went smoothly. After everyone was done eating the apple pie Nikolai had made the day before, they all moved to the living room to have a nice, long chat. After a moment, the twins had stopped talking to do their own little things, letting the adults continue the conversation without them. Nikolai had offered a glass of vodka to the young couple, Viktor accepting with glee, while Yuuri politely refused, quickly explaining he had some bad memories about drinking alcohol after a Cup’s Final.

Time flew seamlessly, and soon enough, it was ten in the evening. Nikolai had to force Viktor, with the help of Yuuri who was pulling, out of his house, so that he could give them a ride to the silver haired man’s apartment, where the both of them would be staying for an undetermined amount of time. After coming back to his own home, he sent his grandsons to bed. Or, actually, it would certainly be more appropriate to call it, sending them to their room, as Nikolai was pretty sure they weren't truly going to sleep for a good moment, no matter how exhausted they had obviously been coming back from the airport. 

Nonetheless, Nikolai was left alone with his thoughts, in the now quiet, and a bit messy, house. 

The next day, Nikolai was woken up by some loud shouting, coming from downstairs.

Still in a sleepy daze, the man turned to the clock on the wall. Eleven in the morning, it read. That was way more advanced in the day than when he usually got up. Nikolai had been a morning person for years now, and driving his grandsons to their morning practices every day had effectively shaped his sleeping schedule. But, he rationalised, he had stayed up much later than he usually did, the night before, too.

Focusing back on the noises coming from downstairs, the living room, it seemed, Nikolai tried and listened more attentively, doing his very best to understand what was happening. He could decipher some of the voices, like Yuri’s and Alexei’s. Some phrases were in English, but others, in Russian, which was to be noted. After a moment, he was also able to guess that the third voice’s owner was Viktor, which, given that information, he could also assume the remaining intruder was Yuuri. Now, the new question was, to know why they were shouting like that.

Well, if Nikolai made a wild guess, one of the reasons had to be the simple fact that the two older skaters were present in the house, surely uninvited.

-Vitya, you better give it back, you asshole, Yuri screamed, sounding as angry as ever, soon followed by his brother, who was way quieter, but very much more dangerous sounding.

-Vitya, I’ll fucking shave Makkachin. A loud gasp was heard, surely coming from the silver haired man. But, apparently, given by the lack of silence, Viktor still hadn’t handed back what he had, whatever that could be.

Slowly, Nikolai stood up from his bed, and walked down the stairs, heading straight to the living room. He wasn’t what one would usually call a curious man, but he still wished to know what was going on in his own house, staring his two grandsons, and two professional skaters, who didn’t live there, at eleven in the morning, while he had been asleep, unaware of everything.

From the open entrance of the room, Nikolai took in the situation, everyone present too busy to notice his arrival.

The two younger boys were on each sides of Viktor, looking ready to tackle him on the ground, or to commit a brutal and very unnecessary murder, as suggested by the expression on their faces. Yuuri, standing awkwardly nearby, seemed completely and utterly lost by the situation, but still finding it funny, given the small, but slightly panicked, smile on his lips. Nikolai guessed that the japanese man was in such confusion from the way the conversation was now being held completely in Russian, out of his understanding capacities.

Both Makkachin and Potya were also present, watching the fight with interest, the first one sitting on the floor, close to the trio in the middle of the room, and the other laying on the back of the couch.

Finally, Viktor was standing on his two feets, a sly smirk on his face, looking very amused by the situation. A book was held in his hand, arm pointed at the sky to avoid the object being taken by one of the twins.

Said book, Nikolai figured out by looking closer, was a photography binder. If the man recalled correctly, that one held pictures of the twins when they were much younger, as in, when they were babies and small toddlers.

That explained why the screaming and threats, at least.

Twenty minutes later, Nikolai had managed to calm down the twins, and to have Viktor hand back the photography collection. After that whole situation had been dealt with, the man had started making breakfast, for everyone present in the house that morning. Apparently, neither Viktor or Yuuri had taken the time to eat that morning, driving there as soon as they had gotten up. Referencing Yuuri, the silver haired man had wished very hard to show him the twins’ baby pictures. Once the kids were out of earshot, Nikolai promised the man he would show him some of the old photographs when they wouldn’t be there to witness it, and demand they stopped. He sure wasn’t as teasing as Viktor, but their grandpa did think Yuri and Alexei’s baby pictures were adorable, and worth being shown to this new addition to their little, if he was allowed to call it that, family. 

Eggs were boiling in a pot, and bread was waiting to be toasted. It was a pretty casual meal, Nikolai and his grandsons still in their pyjamas. All four of the younger men were sitting at the table, in the same positions they had taken the day before. They were chatting together, in English this time, to accommodate the poor, very confused, Japanese man. The kids still looked pretty annoyed, but Nikolai was sure, it would soon be forgotten, or, at least, pushed aside, in favor of focusing on another outrageous thing Viktor dared doing in their presence.

-Potya is better anyways.

Or give their own controversial opinions to the irritating man, one of the two, it depended.

-What do you meeean? Makkachin is way more loyal, right? The older skater replied, offusced, turning to his dog as if she would answer back, affirming in favor of his declaration. Instead, the poodle only stayed there, staring at the man, surely waiting for table food to be given to her, under Nikolai’s nose. Or, more, accurately, in a way that was meant to get unnoticed by the older man, but failing graciously.

-That’s not true. I’m sure Potya is even more responsive to me than Makkachin is to you, Yuri argued, standing up, ready to go search for his cat. 

-Calm down now, it’s time to eat. You’ll do your competitions after breakfast, Nikolai interrupted. This was no time to start a new fight, especially not one as futile as which animal was the best out of the two. Yuri sat back down, arms crossed on his chest, pouting angrily. Serving himself the eggs just brought to the table, Alexei spoke up, to say something rude of course.

-You see like a baby. 

Even if the sentence was grammatically wrong, the message was pretty easy to understand, and quickly got the predictable reaction from the blond. His brother turned to face him, ready to get physical that very second. Sighing, Nikolai served himself breakfast, before, once again, intervening to avoid any unnecessary fights.

-Boys, go back to eating. No fighting at the table. That had Yuri slouching down in his seat, grimacing at Alexei to make his mecontentement known, while his brother had the smallest, ghost of a smirk on his lips.

-Can I ask a maybe rude question.

Nikolai turned to Yuuri, who had been the one speaking. They were walking next to each other, Viktor and the twins in front of them. To try and calm down the kids, canalising their energy into something actually agreable, their grandpa had suggested they all went for a nice long walk, which they were currently doing.

-Of course, he replied simply. If the question was too personal or, as the skater had described it might be, rude, he just wouldn’t answer it.

-Why Yuka And Yoka? Where do the nicknames come from? I understand the concept of nicknames and short names, but no one else calls them that.

Nikolai smiled warmly at that. The question was everything except rude, and brought back good memories to the surface. Turning his head to look at the man next to him, he explained.

-The kids' nicknames are Yurochka and Lyoshenka. I always called them that. So, when they started talking, they called each other by those titles, except, extremely butchered. And it stuck with them.

Nikolai didn’t precise the fact that, Yuka was, actually, short for Yulenka, as Yuuri had no use knowing that. Alexei had kept the same pet name for his brother after he had changed his name, with his permission, of course, but it did fit very well with the new nickname that was given to him. With the way the twins’ names had been modified, Yuka was just as logical to Yurochka that it had been to Yulenka. 

-That’s actually really cute. I’d assume it was some sort of russian insult they were calling each other, Yuuri said back, smiling softly, chuckling in the exact same manner. Nikolai smiled back. It was pretty true that, from an outside perspective, the twins’ love was hidden deep under a mountain of arguments, rivalry, and teasing. And it was the case, actually. But, Nikolai could easily see, and surely Viktor could too, that the two of them had never stopped, or even redacted their care for one another. Simple, little gestures, like the nicknames, the competitions attending, the mutual support, were proof of the brotherly love they had for each other. Things that had never changed, and, the old man was sure, would never falter, no matter how many years.

In front of the two men, the twins had taken some advance, too far for Nikolai to quickly and easily reach them, but, luckily, still close enough for him to shout at his grandsons and have an impact.

And it was most needed, because as soon as the old man set his eyes back on them, both boys jumped on Viktor, tackling him on the floor, making him unable to move. From what he could hear, Nikolai guessed it was revenge from that morning’s photography book situation. Both him and Yuuri reacted at the same time, the first one running up to the trio, mumbling in what sounded like Japanese, while the second one, older and much less athletic, walked as quickly as possible, shouting at the trouble-makers to get them off the poor skater under them.

-Yurochka, Lyoshenka. Get off Vitya right now, he’ll choke to death. I’m being serious boys. Get off.

The orderlinessless that came with the twins also hadn’t changed all that much. But that was part of their charm, of what made Yuri and Alexei, Yuri and Alexei.

Nikolai’s Yuri and Alexei.


	7. To stay by their side

Nikolai wasn’t the protagonist of his story.

Was he a good guy? Well, he considered himself one. He wasn’t the best, had made a few bad decisions, some regretful mistakes, but he believed he had done and gave a lot of positively affecting things and actions throughout his life.

Was he an important part of the story? He did think so. Everyone was important, had a role, a job to fulfill, an impact to have on the world, in his eyes. Therefore, he was too, he had one too.

Was he the narrator? Yes, of course, he was. It was his own piece, afterall. He was the one telling it, slowly writing the long, prolonged, tale, in his personal words, with his personal vision and opinions on the events and characters who grew, developed, flourished around him.

But was he the most important, most impactful, most talked about character in the book that were his days on Earth? No, he wasn’t.

Because that role was fulfilled by Yuri and Alexei.

His two beautiful, strong, loved grandsons.

His world. His everything.

They were the protagonists of his story, of his life. They had been ever since they were born, taking their first breath, blinking, crying. Living.

His life. His angels.

Nikolai turned his head, to look at said boys, who were sitting nearby. There they were. Dark, light hair. Tall, small stature. Muscular, thin body. Different skin shades. Space fixation. Feline obsession. Hockey. Figure skating. Sparkling green eyes.

Tears on their cheeks.

Nikolai returned to his original position, smiling softly. They had achieved so much, and they were still so young, he could be nothing but proud of them, happy, for them. Yuri had won the Worlds by a large margin, beating, at the same time, the points’ world record, previously set by Viktor himself. Alexei had just taken first place at the Kharlamov cup with his hockey team, receiving multiple awards as a single player at the same time, obtaining the title of best, youngest player the world has ever seen, from a handful of the sport’s professionals and experts.

And great things were always awaiting them. Yuri was finally allowed to participate in the Winter Olympics, and Alexei now had access to the Junior League, as well as the opportunity to play as a Designated Junior in the Sports Champions Club’s KHL team. Both boys were on their way to achieve great heights, Nikolai knew.

He was so proud of them.

So proud, it made his heart ache, as it swelled, as it grew larger and larger everyday, so it was about to burst at any given moment. Ready to implode, breaking his ribs, crushing his lungs, destroying his insides as a whole. 

So proud. 

From the window, positioned conveniently next to his bed, Nikolai could see outside the room, where the city, oh, such beautiful city, was already alive, busy, hurriedly going to work, to school, to some small coffee shop at the corner of the street. The old man wasn’t exactly sure what time of the day it was, but he was almost certain it must have been pretty early in the morning, noticing the way the sun only shyly made itself known, soft sunshines peaking between the nearby buildings. It was a calm, relaxing, precious morning. One of those particular, treasurable, ones during which the daily walk to the office was almost pleasant, when small children wore their most prettiest hats, t-shirts and smiles, to match the splendid weather. One when everyone seemed happier, nicer.

-Grandpa.

The call for him, coming from Yuri, had sounded so distant. Nikolai turned a new time to face his two grandsons. Tears were still making their way past the boundaries of their lower eyelids, rolling silently down flushed, tired cheeks, clenched jaw lines, finishing the race into already very wet shirt collars. It was a truly sad sight to be in front of.

-Yes? he answered back, voice not much higher than a whisper. It was enough, thought. The room was surprisingly quiet, his words could be easily heard from where the twins stood, on their knees, right next to his bed.

-You’re staying, right?

No, unfortunately. He wasn’t.

Yuri’s voice had been very small, so small. So hopeful, too, just like Alexei’s facial expression, small smile and wide opened eyes. It was a good thing, being hopeful, being positive. Both boys very rarely demonstrated the positive mindset, always the pessimists, training so hard and never thinking it was nearly enough. So, it was pleasant to see them like this, for once. It would have been better if they had decided to act such ways sooner, but, Nikolai knew, it just wasn’t them, it wasn’t who they were. And that was okay, it was fine. They were already so perfect.

So perfect.

The man smiled softly, closing his eyes at the same time. Sadly, he never had been one to lie, and he wasn’t going to start then. So he shook his head, slowly, weakly.

A sob pierced the previous ambient silence. Alexei.

Soon, the singular noise was followed with more, and more, from both children. Heartbreaking, soul wrenching. Nikolai kept smiling. 

It was the least he could do for them, now. 

-Hey, boys. Boys, look at me, the man called out, voice always as soft and light. The response was immediate, as the kids instantly opened their eyes to stare rather intensely at their grandpa. They had previously been firmly closed, certainly due to the tears falling down, a natural reaction, really. Nikolai hesitated a second, making sure to say the exact right words, before speaking up, once again.

-You’ll be fine. 

Well, maybe he should have thought about it a second more.

The man regretted the way he had pronounced the message the moment it had left his barely moving, dry, lips. The sentiment was only reinforced when both twins began to cry even harder, the tears, visible all over their faces, the biggest Nikolai had seen in his entire life. Which was soon to be concluded.

He, himself, wasn’t particularly sad about his swiftly approaching death. He had gone through a long, busy, satisfyingly filled, seventy-six years long life, and he was satisfied with what he had experienced in it. He had walked on what he believed had been a rightful, enjoyable path, and, he was sure, he would soon be by the Lord’s side, where he would still be always ready and available to help and guide his grandsons. And, even if he hadn’t talked about her for the longest time, he was sure he would finally be able to see Anna, his love, who had, herself, died oh so young, too young. So, overall, he was, in all honesty, personally fine with what was awaiting him, and had no regrets to be left on Earth. But he was still scared.

Scared for the sobbing boys by his side.

He had been their caregiver since their very childhood. He had been their confidant, their comfort source, their support. He had been there for the hardest parts of their very short lives. Yuri’s coming out, Alexei’s fugues. Getting out of their mother’s toxic claws. Their first day of school. Their breakdowns, their anger fits, their weak nights. Their losts and their wins. Nikolai truly didn’t know how they would deal with not having him around anymore.

Both Yuri and Alexei had never been easy children. Even when they were completely fine, were they exhausting to deal with. And it was oh, so worst when they weren’t, fine, a state that could be reached with a wide variety of triggers and evenements. Cheerlessly, Nikolai was pretty sure one of those triggers would be his passing. 

But, now, he wouldn’t be there to help the kids walk through it. And that had him very worried.

Sure, he was almost certain he would find a way to try and guide them once in the Afterlife, along with his late wife, who, he was certain, had, herself as well, done her best to escort the children through the hardships of life on Earth. However, such acts would require for the twins to be attentive and to follow what they were told to do. Which they were known for never doing so, and being extremely bad at it every time they tried. 

Though, they weren’t going to be completely alone. Of course, he had been by the twins’ side the longest, since the very beginning. However, along the way, a handful of other people had come along, to support both children in many, different, helpful ways, which Nikolai was very grateful for. Viktor, for sure, had been the first one, and, arguably, the most reliable, impactful, and important. Helping teach the kids to skate, therefore partially introducing them to each of their passions. Regularly giving support in other fields as well, such as school and social interactions. Slowly, but surely, growing into a fond, strong, absolutely respectable even though eccentric father figure for both twins. 

Then, came in the twins’ instructors. Outside of two of Alexei’s previous hockey coaches, who had been dealt with as soon as possible, every single one of them had, in their own ways, given the kids all the support and proper teachings for them to grow suitably, into the successful, world record breaking athletes they both were. Yakov Feltsman, particularly, deserved a special mention. Nikolai had seen the lineup of his students. He would not have been capable enough to deal with all of them.

And, finally, just recently, Yuuri Katsuki had added himself onto the list. From what he had gathered, the young had first become a worthy, challenging opponent to Yuri, for, later on, growing into a strange, hard to describe, almost mentor like figure for both the blond and his brother. During the four months the skater had been in Russia, the amount of things he had taught the twins was rather surprising, even more so since it had taken some time for the three of them to get comfortable together in a more familiar setting, and to start talking together more often. How to properly make katsudon, simple japanese sentences, but also, different things they could teach Makkachin, small tricks on the ice he had found about from mostly learning on his own, new ways to braid and put their hair up. The list was long and diversified.

Their relationship was still new and fairly fragile, slowly building itself up, but Nikolai knew, it would grow a lot more, up to a reliable, sturdy, unbreakable bond between the twins and the professional skater. 

A small, delicate hand, gripped his own, immediately followed by a larger, stronger one. That was when Nikolai realised his eyes had been closed for quite a moment now, eyelids too tired, too heavy, just like the rest of his body. The man just felt so slow, so weighty, so exhausted. Yet, he also had the strange, but pleasant, impression, of floating into space, getting farther and farther away, little by little, apart from life on Earth, from his physical form. 

Opening his eyes up, he saw his two grandsons, still crying profusely, looking up at him from their kneeling position beside his bed. Taking his time, as he had no other choice than to go very slow and steady, the man reached for the rings on his left hand, one on his actual ring finger, the other on his pinky, his and Anna’s wedding rings, which he couldn’t remember the last time he had taken them off. Maybe he never had, since the day he had lost her. And at that moment, he broke the unspoken, unspecified rule, removing the jewelry, and placing them in front of the twins. His final gift to them.

-I’ll always be there, you know, he told them quietly. Any sound coming from the children paused at that moment, as they both stopped moving for a split second, before turning to look at each other with the most confused faces. That had Nikolai interiorly chuckle. Even in the most sad, most emotional situations, Yuri and Alexei both kept their very adorable, very comical behaviors. Seeing as they weren’t going to figure it on their own any time soon, Nikolai continued.

-I’ll be watching you two from the Afterlife. I’ll make sure to help you anytime you need it. I’m not leaving you, and I never will.

Thinking about it afterwards, that last bit may have sounded very strange and creepy, but it seemed to work well enough. The tear flow seemed to slow down quite a bit, and the kids were able to show their, what Nikolai believed to be, relief. Yuri gave a small smile, his eyes closing momentarily, while the frown displayed by Alexei’s brows loosened up a bit, along with his tense shoulders.

At last, they weren’t entirely sad anymore, and Nikolai had said what he supposed was all he needed to. 

He looked at his grandsons, one last time through his mortal eyes, imprinting their image into his everlasting mind and spirit, making sure he would never be able to forget them. It wasn’t necessary, really, but he liked the symbolic behind this one last glance, directed to the two boys, so important in his now ending life.

It was now time to let go.

To close his eyes for one, last time.

To let the building up, overwhelming, tiredness, wash over him in a big, calming wave.

To let his still perduring smile fall down, his muscles too weak to keep it up.

To expire his last breath, so small, so insignificant, that had been filling so little of his lungs.

To have his heart beat, one last time.

To fall asleep.

I’ll see you later, Yurochka, Lyoshenka.


End file.
